Hello on a "September-ish" July 1st,

I am working on a variety of things and trying to keep my ducks-in-a-row. With some success, I might add, but always seeming to hang on by my fingernails, which are none too long. The last week has brought about the reconnection of some people through facebook. It is such a bizarre thing to reconnect in some case in more than a decade or longer. On the other hand, it causes one to ponder his or her past . . .  sometimes we have done things for which we are sorry and perhaps embarrassed . . . . or worse . . .  reconnections require accountability for our part of mutual history. As I have noted in some of my earlier postings, accountability is a painful thing; it is also nonetheless necessary and important. I have a suspicion, I will be facing it once again. I think this is one of the positive aspects of the internet. It can create an ongoing history, and while painful perhaps, it can also remind us that we need to treat each other with respect and dignity. And if we haven’t or we don’t, it is probable that we will face it somewhere down the road in a virtual space.

I am down to weeks left here on a permanent basis here in Menomonie. It will be almost 6 years to the day that I am leaving from the little town I referred to that first week as "a slice of Americana" . . . . and it is. It is perhaps one of the best places I have ever lived. It is difficult to leave for a number of reasons . . . some of them obvious, and some of them more personal and part of that fabric of whom I have become. It is unfortunate that I am leaving a number of good people and such an amazing place in the rolling hills of West Central Wisconsin. However, the job atmosphere, which will continue to deteriorate with the new budget and required furloughs, makes going to Bloomsburg a very easy thing. But our lives are much more complicated than one view or even a three dimensional view. The fabric to which I referred is tattered and torn, but still holds together. The new pieces of the fabric are waiting to be added as I move East.

It is hard to believe we are in July. Things will move quickly now. I have almost everyday planned out to some extent for the remainder of the summer. In my last post, I had posted early enough in the day that while, I was aware of the passing of one icon, I had little idea that another was on the verge of leaving this world too. I think I agree with Quincy Jones when he says that MJ was a tragic figure. But perhaps we are all tragic in our own ways. It is tragic that we often overlook some of the most important things or people for whatever reason. It is tragic that we often base our opinions on partial truths or snippets of things we hear and malign others when we join in the gossip and the trash. It is tragic when people with power, be it a governor or a president, be it a committee or a dean, use their power in malicious ways, especially under the guise of being professional.

But I am convinced that life is not tragic . . . . it is a gift; it is an amazing thing that we are offered daily; it is a tapestry that offers warmth and design, it offers possibility and chance . . . . it is something we need to cherish and believe in . . . . it is the very thing that allows us to give back to others. It is both exciting and frightening . . . it is something for which we need to be accountable, whether that be to God or our neighbor or ourselves . . . . the picture here was actually taken in Parryville, PA when I was there in May . . . it was a lot warmer that day then it is today . . . how sad!

Back to packing and writing some other things. As always . . . . thanks for reading!

Michael

Hello from hot and humid Menomonie,

I am sitting in thecorner of my study and want to take a nap, but decided to write instead. I am trying to manage the writing of two class proposals and the finishing up of another project. I need to check on some people yet today, but somehow being here might be more productive at the moment. Things are coming together for the move, though there is still much to do. I have been collecting boxes and I believe it is almost time to begin to put something in them. That will be another step in the reality process that I am leaving WI and moving to PA.

This morning I had a conversation with a student I know from various serving positions rather than in class, but she is an interior design student and I have been speaking with her about the appartment. There will be a lot to do to make it what I want. I have been spoiled here in Menomonie for the last 4-plus years wth my living situation. I am so fortunate. I am also fortunate that I can come back on a regular basis to see how things are. Erica, who will be living in the house, will take good care of things and I know that there are no worries on that end.

I was looking at the news a few minutes ago and observed that the expected passing of a cultural iconic image has passed on. Farrah Fawcett has lost her battle to cancer. I had that infamous poster on my wall at one point in my life. I did not know she and I were born in the same town. I did know she was from Texas. I think it is interesting when we become such an integral part of the fabric of who we understand, as a society, ourselves to be. I cannot imagine that she ever dreamed that such a thing would happen. Does anyone ever realize they are "fated" to some kind of stardom? What what does it mean to achieve it or have it, perhaps, foisted upon you. And are there varying degrees. Somewhat like the saying of the "big fish in a small pond". Is it the same, but on a smaller scale. At what point is anonymnity more preferable?

As I have been speaking with people, particularly when I was in Houghton over this past weekend, it is always interesting to think about (and even visit) where we once lived. On Sunday night I stayed in the inn and had dinner where I once worked and managed the restaurant. It was relaxing, comfortable and enjoyable. Driving from Houghton back to Menomonie, I could not help but reflect on te first time I made that trip and the smell of the dairy farms. It had been so long since I had smelled those things, but it reminded me of when I was small. The pungent aroma of the cattle and the moist hay. It is interesting how our olfactory sense can create images of sight and sound in such a vivid way. Lately, I have certainly been cognizant of how little things are what make a particular place such an important part of who we are.

This past week I have felt like I am always about a step behind. Perhaps I need to make even more lists and be more intentional. I know that the time will pass quickly. I am getting email in both places now as well as email on my private account. TOO MUCH!! Perhaps it is my own fault. While I do not use texting-language, I most assuredly get and send my share of text messages. About 15 years ago, I could word process and was barely learning email. There is part of the long strange trip.

This morning, I met with my neighbors, Elaine and Tom, and a colleague and friend named Jane. We spent some time in scripture and prayer about all the changes on the horizon. It was something I requested and I think it helped me sort of cleanse and focus. Speaking of cleansing and focusing, I am working to get some weight off, so I have been walking, though more discipline is needed Amazing how discipline is part of everything we do!! I am not sure we realize it most of the time. I will need it in many ways in my life during the next weeks.

Well . . . . just my thoughts on what will be a long strange summer, but one that will pass quickly and be full of changes.

As always, thanks for reading.

Michael

Hello from the corner at Caribou Coffee,

It is amazing the amount of time I have spent in this place in the six years I have lived in Menomonie. I wrote the majority of my dissertation in here (I often note that composing the dissertation took two years and $4,000.00 worth the Caribou). This morning I actually responded to an email from a former Stout colleague who also left and teaches some where else. She and I used to have daily conversations here.

I have finished all my classes and finals and I am currently in the throes of grading; while students worry about it, we fret about it also. I know from my own experience, we all too often work for the grade versus work for the sake of learning. We place so much value on that evaluation of our work. I have gone through that recently myself. What I have noticed in my Freshman Composition classes is most students really stepped it up at the end of the semester and it paid off. In my upper level courses I am working through the electronic porfolios. I am using the tool we currently have available, but it is not nearly as user-centered as I would like, particularly on my end.

My current place is so unsettled. My brain is here and needs to be, but I keep looking at things I need to prepare to be ready when I get to Bloomsburg. There is so much to manage. And then there is Lydia . . .  this is a significant issue. She is really quite amazing in all she has accomplished, but there will be some hard work to manage all it from 1,000 miles away. I am fortunate to have someone who will be here and very helpful for her. There are just a lot of pieces to keep organized. Marco, my winemaker friend, noted that I have a social contract with her. He is correct. I have created a situation where she has grown to expect certain things and is comfortable with me. I have also been very fortunate to live next to her.

I have been thinking about other times I have left to go somewhere new. It is such a strange thing. It will be interesting to see how people react or whether they do at all. As I told the chancellor and others, I know I am not that important in the big picture. I know the program will manage just fine. There are two very competent people coming in and they will be more than able to manage what I am doing. It is also different because I will be coming back on a monthly basis to check on Lydia and help her.

I am not sure if I will find time to travel; I think there will be some day trips on the Harley wich will be important for my sanity. All in all, I know that life continues and I am certainly excited about the possibilities in Pennsylvania. It will be yet another learning and growing experience. I am excited to work on some writing and work on my classes. I will be the first to teach a number of those classes so I will be blazing some new trails for the department. I want to do it well.

Well, back to correcting electronic portfolios.

Michael

Hello from the study,

The title of today’s post comes from that Simon and Garfunkel song (The Boxer). I feel that I have been in a fifteen rounder at times, but I am still very blessed. I have good friends and people who have supported me in so many ways. What is it that makes us who were are?

I am just a poor boy
Though my story’s seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

I think about this . . . . though I am not sure my resistance was squandered. Indeed, some hear what they will and disregard logic, truth or fairness. But it is always up to those who experience such an event to manage it. In the time I have been a sufferer with Crohn’s I have learned valuable lessons. It is hard for me to believe that I have managed this disease for 25 years ~almost half my life. I am amazed by that fact. While I would not wish the disease, its symptoms or its conseqences, on anyone, I have been very fortunate. For in spite of surgeries and other complications, I have been blessed to learn some valuable lessons. I know that more than anything, being healthy is the most important thing that someone can have. All the money, toys or anything else one might accumulate is irrelevant if you do not feel well.

My father once told me to choose my battles wisely and fight them well. I am not sure I have always done that and, perhaps, in this latest one, I failed miserably, but I did not realize it was supposed to be a battle. In fact, I am quite sure it should not be, but nevertheless it was. Though as with all things, or so it seems, it was another thing to learn. I am reminded of Norman Maclean’s phenomenal quote at the end of the his novella "A River Runs Through It," he wrote "eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters." ~ Norman Maclean~ and so it is  . . . in each place we travel and pause we leave something. For those I have offended or failed, I ask your forgiveness. When I have done less than my best while working with you, I can only take accountability for that shortcoming. For those I have been fortunate to help, I am also grateful for the opportunity to work with you.

Menomonie has been, mostly, a joyful place and a time for significant growth. That is quite amazing when one considers I was middle aged when I arrived here almost six years ago. In my first journal entry about Menomonie, I noted it was kind of small town Americana. I still think that. The municipal band plays in the bandshell on Tuesday nights in the summer. Church ladies sell fresh-baked pies and pastries and the boy scouts raise the flag. Flower baskets decorate the streets and the mayor has a very funny weekly newspaper column. I have been blessed to be here. What is a place? Again, I ask that question. As Maclean’s waters, I am haunted by it.

I have appreciated the response of people and I think of Hawkeye’s small speech to his compatriots on the final episode of M*A*S*H. I paraphrase: "I can’t say that I have [liked] you all either, but I have [liked] as many of you as I could." Perhaps the most important thing I have learned is that it is okay to "not like" someone. It is okay to have weaknesses, and more important we need to me as comfortable with our weaknesses as we are our strengths. There will be much to do in the next weeks and I am flying to Pennsylvania in a week or so to try to set the foundation. It is both exciting and a little frightening, but I am very fortunate to work with a former colleague and to be there with his wonderful family. That is most exciting.

More soon . . .

Michael

Hello from the corner of my favorite chocolate shop,

I have been away from blogging for a while at the recommendation of a colleague as I worked through the tenure process because it was noted that I was too honest about things. Well, much like the parallel to the concept of academic freedom, I have decided to write again. It is sad that I allowed some (and not my colleague who is kind and considerate and hence her advice) who have neither morals or honesty to control what I do. That is another one of those growing experiences that seem to come again and again.

I have decided that I find politics infinitely interesting, but the unethical application of power particularly aggravates me. The big news in the last 5 months is that I have been offered a new position at another university. Actually the last time I blogged here I had interviewed with two faculy people from that university. The past year has been a very good experience for me; I have learned how to take feedback and see how to employ that feedback in a very positive and effective manner. I think I have always done that, but for the first time I did it because it was the best way to learn. In other words for learning’s sake.

Another interesting parallel in that experience is how similar it is to what I tell my students. If you just do the work and work to learn and improve the grade will usually take care of itself. However, I know at times there is an exception to the usually. I have experienced that exception at significant times in my life. It merely demonstrates the reality of the fact that as I told one of the iniquitous philosophers I know that I am not a consequentialist. I have learned I am much more of a deontologist. I remember thinking the politics of the church were perhaps the most insidious I had ever experienced. I might have found a place that surpasses that. I certainly do not say that with any sense of joy, and, in fact, it is with some sadness.

To live in Menomonie for six years is the longest I have lived in one place since I graduated from high school. I really like Menomonie; it is one of the best small town secrets in the country. There are so many positive things, and little amenities that most here take for granted. We have a very funny mayor and a city council that genuinely cares for the community and wants it to be a good place to live. Likewise, people here take care of their property and demonstrate a great sense of pride in their houses, their lawns, and I think in their lives. I am not sure if it is that strong German industriousness or something else, but the result is fabulous.

However, the move to the East is not unfamiliar to me. Twenty-one years ago, I was living about 60 miles from where I live now and I am moving back to 60 miles from where I lived there. Another parallel. I need to think about the concept of parallelism. I address that in my classes all the time as far as its relationship to grammar, but what about when it is part of our lives?? H-m-m-m-m-m-m.

Well, the next couple weeks, it is finishing up a semester and doing all the grading. I am back to writing and I will try to check in next week. The picture of the car is what I rented in California during the spring break and what I hope to purchase next. It would allow me to trailer the Harley.

Thanks for reading!

Michael

Hello from my house,

It is a mite bit colder than it was in Northern California, but it is nice to be home nonetheless. Not long after I finished the last post (within hours), I lost the hard drive on my tablet. That started a week where I had either no, or limping, computer access. I did have most things backed up, but I did lose some things and I have to speak to the D2L admin people tomorrow to find out if I can get back what I have out on the server, or more appropriately, what is the easiest or most efficient way to get access to those things.

I am tired today. I think I have finally unwound. I have actually been in bed by around 10 or so. That is pretty early. I would like to try to maintain that schedule and see if I can actually sleep more and get more work done during the day. I think I also need to finally get intentionally about doing more exercise. This fat-toad existence needs to change. I think some serious walking would be advisable. I did enjoy California and mostly hearing more about the wines and what goes on . . . it is such an interesting thing.

As I head into another semester, it is always excitement and some nervousness. I have more work to do because again I have changed things. I do that for both my sake and the sake of my students, but it is always to some extent a new prep. That takes more time and thought. There was an interesting article on grade inflation at the post-secondary level in the St. Paul Pioneer today. It caused me to think, but one of the issues raised was this consumerism idea of education and how that affects the grading process. Indeed, so many think they are owed a grade or that merely coming to class and being present constitutes an A. From where did that thought originate and what has caused it to be, what seems to be, a predominant attitude? I try to take that issue on from the get-go, but we have given so much power to everyone but the faculty person (and that is particularly the case for those who are academic staff or not yet tenured). Just this past week I received the following:

" . . . the students themselves, the millenials, are different-technologically hyperconnected, highly confident multi-taskers who have little patience for traditional lectures and classrooms. And why should they? . . . "

First of all, I think this should have been cited by whomever the author was . . .  second . . .  I am not sure I agree with either part of this statement, and third, it would seem that the previous passage, which I quoted, makes some sweeping genreralizations that I do not see in all of my students. However, I do agree that the present classroom constituency creates complex challenges. Indeed, according to the statistics currently available, this generation is only exceeded in number by the boomers (Deloitte). Certainly they are more techo saavy than their predecessors, but there are still things to learn. But learning is mutual . . .  and therefore respect for the learning process needs to be mutual. This is where I find the struggle. Their ability to adapt is admirable and their willingness to try new things is also good, but respect for tradition does not mean being stuck in that tradition.

Where I think we can do better as faculty is realize that being on a laptop campus it is our obligation (and yes, I used that word intentionally) that we need to integrate software into our classroom and help students use it responsibly. That does not mean telling them to put their laptops away. I guess it is their choice if they choose to use it to play solitaire, facebook, IM, or whatever else they are doing, but they have a responsbility to their group and colleagues in class with them to not be a distraction. This past semester I used more technology that we have on campus and found it disappointingly unresponsive to what I needed it to do. That will be an ongoing conversation.

Well, in a few days it will be settling into a new schedule and trying to finish things up before that occurs. It will be a busy week, but that is a normal thing. In the meanwhile, I will be excited to see some people when they get back to Menomonie and am looking forward to more conversations. As always, I appreciate your reading and I am looking forward to the fact that "W" is a single digit brain-midget in the White House!! Hoorah!!

Michael

Hello from Cappelli Ranch in Somerset, CA;

I just finished a very long post and then did not save or publish it . . . damn!! Perhaps I can write it again, and maybe it will be a better post. The past three days I have been on my own, venturing out only when I chose to do so, and spending most of the time on the hill here at Marco’s doing school work, managing my second semester classes, cooking when I was hungry, and keeping the fire going to manage the temperature in the house.

To have this much quiet over a continuous period would have been overwhelming and frightening to me at one point of my life; that is no longer the case; I have thoroughly enjoyed the solitude. I am reminded of other times in my life when I experienced such a sense of aloneness . . .  When I was in Europe in 1980, I contracted pneumonia and headed back to the states from Barcelona on my own. Ironically, the title of the interim class in which I was participating was "Auguries of Loneliness" It was not until this evening that I wondered if it were connected to William Blake’s poem, "Auguries of Innocence." Was I innocent back then? Perhaps . . .  even though I had been in the service and I did not feel that innocent compared to many with whom I was attending Dana College, I was still a non-traditional student. What makes us traditional or non-traditional? Who decides. I do not think I am innocent, or even naive any longer, and as noted in earlier posts, I have lost most of my idealism. Perhaps, I still cling to a sense of sentiment.

William Blake’s poem states:

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

While I am the only person left in my immediate family, the grain of sand and the wild flower preceded me and will most certainly follow me. Tomorrow it will be 11 years since I sang at my father’s funeral and then followed by presiding at the commital service for him on that cold January day. It is also my cousin, Joanne’s 77th birthday. She is like a parent to me at this point. They have done so much for me at various times in my life. If my grandmother were alive, she would soon be 96. She has been gone for over thirty years. That is amazing to me. In fact, that would be half of her living life ago.

Tonight shortly, I will be driving in the fog to Sacramento to return my rental car to the airport. I will meet Marco and the rest there and return to the hill here to spend my last remaining days. It has been a wonderful visit. While I have not seen everyone I thought I might have, that has been okay. In some cases, they are out of town for the holiday; in another case, it has not been enough of a priority for them. I am reminded that I was once told "you have time to do whatever you choose to do". I think it is true. If it is a priority enough, you will make it happen. The result has been more solitude and having the discipline to get some things done for next semester. I have a lot left to do, that the time will pass more quickly than I wish. And so it has been . . .  returning to Marco’s there has been a sense of place. I am reminded of Tara who came to visit me and was in this very room before we headed back to Wisconsin at the end of July 2007. I am reminded of coming to visit following my motorcycle accident and doing with with Marco at Miraflores. It has been fun to see the changes and yet experience the familiarity. Place is a combination of memories and expectations; of repetition and commencements; it is the ability to hold on and let go in the same moment. Today someone told me that what I caused them to do was think outside the box. I think that is a good thing. Place is having the box, but also having a willingness to move beyond it.

So with a certainly wistfulness, I am giving up my place and solitude in a few hours. I will move among the community of people I am fortunate to be part of . . . to create a sense of place once again, I will do what I enjoy . . . I will cook dinner for everyone. I will tell you more about that next time.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

Good morning from a dining room table in the Sierra Nevada foothills,

I actually wrote a long post the day after Christmas and my computer decided to choke and I lost it. Today is a Sunday, and 11 years ago today on a very cold snowy Sunday morning in Laurim, MI, I received a phone call that my father had passed away. It was a quick moving cancer that took his life. He had only bene diagonosed with it the day after Thanksgiving that year. It was a very cold day and the morning of his funeral a few days later, the wind chill was somewhere between -20 and -30. It was brutal. Today in the Sierra Nevada foothills in Northern California it is sunshining and gorgeous. The sun coming up this morning was spectacular. I am at the wonderful abode of Marco Capelli and Belinda Mehtarian. Marco is the winemaker at Miraflores, where I worked a couple summers ago.

It is hard to believe it is another year come and gone and most tend to think about what has happened. I think I would prefer to think about what might be. Tomorrow I will be in San Francisco at the MLA convention and having some conversations. I have never really been to downtown SF and I will be close to China Town and the wharf. I am not sure what I will do, but I do think I will  be walking the "Streets of San Francisco". Along with that I am thinking about the next semester. Last night I was up reading about 3:00 a.m. and I think I am going to make some significant changes to my 102 class next semester. I should probably be content, but that would be too simple, and heaven forbid I do things the easy way.

It is both exciting and a little frightening to consider the possibilities of the coming year. It is entirely possible there will be no changes in my employment, it is possible I might be in a totally different location in a totally different university and maybe beginning a somewhat different process. Coming back to Placerville, it is easy to think about what has happened. I was speaking with Marco this morning about what gives a sense of place again . . . it is one of those reoccuring themes of my life. What gives me a sense of place here in Placerville is the people and the memories of some wonderful evening get togethers as well as a very nice going away party. It has been Marco’s continuing graciousness and hospitality and Belinda’s sense of grace and care that make coming to Somerset so wonderful . . . and makes me feel like I have come "back".

A few weeks ago I was speaking with one of my colleagues from graduate school. We were talking about the past 10 years and she said, "Michael, you have been in the same place for 6 years. That is a long time for you, I am sure you are about ready to move." I was a little taken back, but then I realized she was correct. It is the longest I have been in one place since I graduated from high school 35 years ago. That is amazing to me.

Today, Belinda’s mother, Penny and her husband, Ron, have driven down from Oregon. It has been a non-stop conversation since we sat together at the table. It has been fun; it is so interesting to see how people get from point A to point B and how they end up where they do  . . .  where will that next place be, or will it be?

I will try to write one more time before the year ends . . . thanks for reading as always.

Michael

Good morning during the middle of Advent,

This morning I was listening to Parker Palmer, the Quaker educator and social critic, on NPR and he caused me to almost stop the car and merely listen to what he had to say. He talked about the fact that we have lived beyond our means and supported such a system for so long that the current crisis shoud be no surprise to anyone who honestly took stock (pun intended) of our situation. Interestingly, he moved it to the individual level and noted that unless we create a system of trust, whether it be in a classroom (and he specifically used this metaphor) or a school, all the money in the world will not make it successful. It is not hard to move this to a global space. We live in a world where we are so suspicious of each other and yet we, as has been painfully shown, are dependent on each other.

I have been thinking about it in my own daily life. My students are dependent on the fact that I show up to class and will give them the best I can; they are dependent on the hope that I will be fair and consistent in my grading throughout the semester. But I am also dependent on them, I am dependent on their effort in class and their willingness to listen and apply what they have heard so that the grade they earn (and that term is used purposely) will reflect both their ability and effort. When it does not happen, they become angry and want to blame me.

I am dependent on a university hierarchy and state legislature who values what I do on a daily basis and, in response, hopefully compensates me both monetarily and otherwise in a reasonable manner (that of course, is an entirely different discussion), but both the administration (more directly) and the state is dependent on the faculty and staff to work hard and honestly because without that ethic, retention is certainly affected. In spite of that, I am saddened by the fact that we (the corporate we) have become so numbers-driven that we have sold out to the business model of higher education. When my students are merely my customers, education-for the sake of learning-is irreversibly compromised. As we become increasingly budget driven, the quality of education intrinsically suffers. I certainly support providing opportunity and the concept of open enrollment, but this means many students require more attention. Yet, the impending promise of raised caps, loss of release time to inprove our skills, and hiring freezes while adding students is unethical at best. And the rocket scientist we do not need to figure out the result, would be shaking his or her head.

I wonder where it will all end. But I am not merely the victim, I am a perpetrator. I too have lived beyond my means, but believe it is time for a change. It is time to actually write a budget, both for my finances and my time (and to have the discipline to stick to it). All too often our individual greed gets in the way of our creating a sense of trust or a sense of community. I am reminded of my dissertation topic and Bonhoeffer’s emphasis on community. It might be time to read the little book Life Together once again. This was Bonhoeffer’s attempt to create community among his students in a situation where they were studying in an outlawed seminary.

How is it that we have such a dire situation in our state (an impending 5.4 billion dollar deficit) and I hear the same in other states. While this sounds frightening Republican to me, why is it that everyone deserves a handout for his or her greed? But is that contradictory to my point about community? I guess the question is complex. Where do we have corporate or communal responsibility for the other? To what degree do we have a responsibility to respond? To what degree does the individual have responsibility for his or her choices?

Over the past couple years I have used the term "entitlement" to describe the attitude I see as prevalent among the millenials. But from where did they learn such an attitude? Attitudes are not inherent, they are learned. It gets back to the title of this posting: individual greed. As I have noted in the past, my father was very wise. His admonishment rings true: "Michael, there are no free lunches." And so it is . . . we are so likely to want and demand. I want a reasonable salary; I want to be appreciated; I want to be treated with dignity and honesty; and, of course, there is the "I want" in that statement. All those things return us to the principle of community. If we are communal, we are dependent on reasonable interaction and mutual dependency. Sounds rather socialistic, but didn’t I just say I felt alarmingly Republican. There is the dilemma.

As we move through the Advent season, we are asked to reflect, to ponder. That has been my purpose in the post, to do precisely that. The reflection is always individual and I too have been guilty of my own greediness. Forgive me if you have been the recipient of that self-centeredness; Forgive me for those times I have torn down rather than built up a sense of community. Forgive me if I have been intolerant or uncaring.

Thank you for being part of my community, of my life and bless you for the blessings you have been to me. Thanks again for reading. 

Michael

Good morning from the corner of a great place called "Nucleus",

Over the past couple months I have been coming to a little place called Nucleus. It is a rather "earth muffin" sort of a place, but before you think I am maligning it, this is a term of endearment for me. A few of you might shudder at any thought of hanging out here for fear of some kind of liberal virus. Such is not the case, the people who work there are creative intelligent and display a sense of openness and appreciation fo the world in which we live.

Since I returned from Thanksgiving, I have been on what one of my colleagues refers to as "a grading initiative." It is an occupational hazard of teaching at any level. Grading is such a difficult thing, especially when you are grading writing. It is both subjective, but for the person receiving the grade it becomes profoundly personal. I remember taking grades very personally;  but now that I am 15 years into teaching at this level, I can say with a sense of certainty that it is not about person, it is about the product (and by extension the process).

Last night I watched a DVD titled Celtic Woman. It was outstanding and caused my sense of wanderlust to return to the forefront of my thought processes. In addition, I was speaking to a friend from graduate school who lives in the Detroit area. In fact, we actually got together at a Panera Bread at one point which was in the same area of the Gateway Country Store in which I worked "at the turn of the century" (literally). She flipped me some garbage about being in the same place for almost 6 years and said, "That is a pretty long time; isn’t it about time for you to move?" Her assessment was more accurate than I might have thought once I seriously pondered what she said. This returns me to the point of this blog, which is the title: at one point, my father’s relatives have been traced back into 16th century County Cork. I have never been to Ireland or Scotland, and I think I need to make that journey. Maybe it is that sense of melancholy that I have noted in some earlier postings. There is something hauntingly alluring to those two countries (and it is not the alcohol, though a great meal with a pint of Scottish ale would not hurt my feelings). I love the music and I have a colleague who spent the fall there and I have been extraordinarily bilious. In addition, I have a friend who is Scottish and he is a hoot (and also brilliant).

What gives us a sense of place, and what is that? It is grounding, familiarity, comfort? Is it based on knowledge, experience, history? I have decided my sense of wanderlust is the consequence of struggling to find a sense of place. Is it the because I was adopted? At this point is it because my entire immediate family has passed away? These sort of questions are a constant companion in my life’s journey. Why is it I have this need to have people around, but at the same time want my solitude?

This next week I will say goodbye to a colleague who succumbed in his long battle with cancer and by weeks end, I will have flown to Utah and back to Wisconsin. Before the end of the month I will be back in California. I think one of my strengths is that I can find joy in most any place I find. There is a great deal of natural beauty in the world, and - in spite of the horrific news from Mumbai; our gloomy global economy, or any other deplorable news - outstanding people everywhere. The music from the Celtic Woman group is so amazing and inspiring. There is a comfort in the honesty of their music and it creates a sense of wonder in me; a sense of wishing I was part of that world.

Allow for a 90 degree turn for a moment. This is such a interesting place; there are two dogs here in the coffee shop. It is kind of cool, but startled me. It reminds be of an old friend in Houghton named Jimmy whose dog followed him everywhere including the Doghouse (pun intended). So . . . back to place. What is this concept? How do you know you have a sense of place? I would be interested in your thoughts.

Thanks for reading.

Michael