Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in jadusty's LiveJournal:

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Monday, September 28th, 2009
6:42 pm	The Yankee You Know In 1862, Abraham Lincoln placed John Pope in command of the Union Army after the vain and boastful George McClellan disappointed him so slowly, but surely, on the Peninsula in Virginia. When Pope also failed at the Second Battle of Manassas, Lincoln felt forced to turn back to McClellan (who said he had been called upon again to save the country). When this is described in Ken Burns's documentary The Civil War, Lincoln justifies his decision with the statement we must use the tools we have. In class last week, one of the War and American Society students heard this and asked, 'Is Lincoln calling McClellan a tool?' Lincoln did love a joke. Current Mood: amused Current Music: Ashokan Farewell (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 9th, 2009
7:51 pm	The Last Casualty of the War of 1812 From time to time a newspaper article surfaces featuring the last casualty of World War I or World War II, who is usually a farmer in France or a construction worker in Germany blown up by an old land mine or an unexploded bomb. I do not think any unexploded bombs remain around Fort McHenry, nor were mines, torpedoes, or other infernal devices planted in Lake Champlain, around New Orleans, under Lundy's Lane, or along the River Raisin. Nonetheless, the War of 1812 and that modern devil, Power Point, have nearly killed me. I consider it poor manners to complain about how hard one works--it is far more tasteful to present a carefree visage to the world, as if everything comes easily--but I am guilty, from time to time, of a little déclassé display of dismay, and now is nearly such a time. I have the great privilege of teaching a section of War and American Society this term at Science Hill. I think I am the first person outside the two teachers who created the course many years ago to be able to do so, and when I took it from them (as they once split the course, one teaching early wars (also known as The Civil War and Some Other Stuff) and the other later ones) it was one of the things (even if it was neither the first nor the last) that made me want to become a teacher. Therefore, I want to do it justice. I have not the gift for clever activities that some of my colleagues have, although I am working on it, and am improving some. I do not typically use much technology either, having resisted much technology more advanced than chalk. I once had an overhead projector, and I lost it. Still, to make the most of this course, I decided to begin making Power Point slide shows to go with my lectures. I dislike most PowerPoint slide shows. People tend to slap a bunch of text and bullets up there (and not interesting bullets like a Minie ball or one of those humongous bullets used by late 19th Century buffalo hunters) and then read it. My slide shows are just pictures with captions. I thought these would be easy to make. Instead, they at least double the time it takes to write a lecture (as I create the lectures and slide shows simultaneously). I thought my lecture for the War of 1812 would be a simple one: Tippecanoe (and the Thames, too!), Lake Erie, Lundy's Lane, Horseshoe Bend, Burning of Washington, Fort McHenry, New Orleans, Johnny Horton, Treaty of Ghent. I have discovered that the War of 1812 is not so simple. There are approximately one million small battles, spread all over creation, many of which are interesting (and I have discovered that I have long conflated the Battles of Lake Erie and Lake Champlain in my mind, and am glad to be corrected by further reading except that I am embarrassed when I think how many times I have told the story wrong) or significant in some way. This has resulted in the longest single slide show and the longest lecture I have made for this class (although it will probably work out to be two days' worth of lecture and slides, so I suppose I could view it as having planned two lectures by accident). Still, I am nearly licked from this war, and rather tired from staying up past my bed time making a dozen others so far. I'll be glad when it's done, particularly if I get to teach this class again (as I really hope to do, although even at my best I know I cannot compare to Wild Bill Stanton in energy or enthusiasm, so he will always be--deservedly--the first choice to teach the course) and can re-use them, but it's rough going some nights. Still, I hate to complain. I could be getting my head knocked in along the River Raisin or at Fort Mims or having my house burnt like poor Mr and Mrs Madison or still be teaching on the 8-9 campus. Current Mood: tired Current Music: The Battle of New Orleans (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 19th, 2009
11:15 pm	You Can't Have Too Much of a Good Thing I recently discovered this video, and feel that the next step is to find a way to apply its principles to every form of board game. I wish I had some more brilliant commentary, but sadly, it is past my bed time. Current Mood: sleepy Current Music: James K Polk (Comment on this)
Friday, May 22nd, 2009
10:46 pm	We Liked to Hit People We had our last Mediæval Battle Association meeting of the year this afternoon, and it was a big one. It was activities day, and the assistant principal in charge of student activities asked us to put on an exhibition in the practise field. I think it was a fair success and drew some positive attention to us. Then we went back to our regular place and stayed until four. A lot of our officers are graduating this year. We always have some members graduate each year, and I miss them when they do, but this year the graduates are the first batch I have seen all the way through from 8th grade. That was also the first year I ran MBA, so in a way we have grown up in the club together. In a way it will be nice to go back to being one of the best fighters again (a lot of our current seniors have become better than I), but I will miss these folks a lot. I worry, too, about getting a new crop of officers to lead the club, although I am sure some will step forward. One of the officers who is not yet graduating will be my student worker next year, so we'll be able to plot some in our spare time. The graduates did well by me, too: I got a musical card, some candy, a wool forage cap (a Yankee blue one, but the thought was still kindly-meant, and they did apologise), and a big metal shield that a bunch of them signed. I will have to find some way to hang it up in my room. It is pretty impressive. After the meeting I did something I have ocassionally been invited to do, but always felt I had to (or ought to) decline, and met them at Taco Bell, where we sat around talking about the past five years in the club. It is funny how things that happened four or five years ago still stand out, although some of our early experiences still shape rules and customs of the club. I hope we can keep those going, and also create new ones. It's sort of an emotional thing, really. I'm proud of them for making it through and doing well, but we have become friends (or as close as we can, given our different stations in life), and it will be hard to see them go. Current Mood: nostalgic Current Music: Pomp and Circumstance (Comment on this)
10:40 pm	Happy Saint Dunstan's Day! Of course, Tuesday was Saint Dunstan's Day, when we remember the Archbishop of Canterbury who grabbed the devil by the nose with his smithing tongs. Naturally, we played horseshoes. I won, and that was fun, but what made it better was that we had quite a nice picnic to go with it. Not only did TJ build horseshoe pits in a field for us ahead of time, but he (at Katie's suggestion) made Rice Crispy Treats with marshmallow horseshoes from his Lucky Charms mixed in. They were the coolest snack ever. Other folks also brought punch and chips and cookies and things--Katie brought elephant-shaped sandwiches! It was really a blast. Everyone, I think, had fun (except perhaps Katie, who got sort of frustrated), and Jim suggested we play horseshoes more than once a year so that we would be better at it when we play each May 19th. It sounds like a good idea to me. Current Mood: happy Current Music: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost--Nail the Devil to a Post (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 6th, 2009
10:31 pm	When a man is tired of London he is tired of life Robin and I plan to go to the British Isles this summer. We will fly into London, spend a few days there, then cross southern England into South Wales and then take a ferry to Ireland. We'll probably be there two or two and a half weeks (I need to book our tickets soon). The problem is what to do while we are there. Obviously we will see the British Museum. To visit London and not see (and probably spend at least a day in) the British Museum is a waste of a plane ticket. After that, though, it is hard to say. One of the great philosophical dilemmas facing a traveler returning to the general area of former adventures is whether to revisit places visited before or to see even more. I planned to spend a day or two in Swansea, for example, but the fact is, there is not much to do there (although I'm sure we could spend a day in the city centre or take a bus to the Mumbles or even out sightseeing on the Gower Peninsula), and our overall stay is limited. Staying in Cardiff would make more sense, as there are more things I would actually like to do there, but I am always oddly nostalgic for Swansea (it is a strange thing to be homesick for a place one only lived for a few months). The truly great moral problem is if I should try to see friends in Somerset, which would be a little out of the way (and perhaps a bit uncomfortable for Robin, as they live in an old house without a shower--or, for that matter, a toilet in the main house) but only a little bit, and which is even more inconvenient to visit from Tennessee. Here is a list of things that might be nice (besides visiting the British Museum, which goes without saying (except that I have said it at least twice already, and may repeat it again)): In London: St Paul's Cathedral Westminster Abbey (conveniently right by Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament) the reconstructed Globe Theatre (perhaps and perhaps not attending a play there) Kew Gardens the National Maritime Museum at the Greenwich Observatory the Tower of London ...but I have seen the Tower before, and while I'd enjoy seeing it again, it's not cheap, and there are other things I'd like to see, too (I'm not sure how Robin would like the Tower). It would be easy to see Westminster and St Paul's in a day and still have time for some other short adventures (perhaps seeing the Globe), or just walking around or taking a bus tour. I'd really like to go to Greenwich, but I do not know if Robin would. I think we'd both like Kew Gardens. Near London (a day trip out, perhaps): Canterbury (which I've seen, and which was neat, but not as impressive as some other cathedrals that I know we'll see; I think Robin would probably like to go, though, and there are some fun things to do, like visit the parish church of St Dunstan, where Sir Thomas More's head is buried in the floor) the White Cliffs of Dover (probably cool, and I'd like to see them, but I don't know if it's worth most of a day to take the train to look at them and then head back to London) Hastings (historically interesting, but I've seen it when they were having a re-enactment, and I can't think what a second visit would add to that, and without the re-enactment, it wouldn't impress Robin) Cambridge (a nice town with a beautiful military cemetery that I like to visit, but perhaps not worth a trip when there is so much to do and see) Portsmouth (where I'd like to see HMS Victory in drydock and the rest of the maritime museum there, although that might sort of duplicate the museum at Greenwich, without the advantage of being able to stand in the western hemisphere while spitting in the eastern one) ...I think there were some other possibilities, too, that I saw in the guide books or recalled from the good old days, but which elude me now. Southwestern England I'd like to visit my friends in Somerset, but I am not sure how well that will fit in with the rest of the trip, yet I'd hate to miss them. They have a very nice little stone house with their own garden and are quite self-sufficient. They are also both involved in local history (one or both work for English Heritage, I think) and could give a nice little tour of the country round and they always have a keg of local cider. I definitely want to go to Salisbury. The cathedral is one of my favourites, it has one of the oldest working clocks in the world, the tallest church spire in England, and very nice grounds in the Cathedral Close. Stonehenge is also nearby, and that might be nice to take Robin to. I've seen it before, and was less impressed than I expected to be. We might go to Bath. The Roman museum there is pretty nifty. I don't see the need to stay for more than a few hours to see that, though. Going to Glastonbury to see the water welling up from the Holy Grail would be kind of cool, but I've seen it before (and have some water in a bottle) and it's not on any rail lines. Robin sort of wants to go up to Stratford-upon-Avon and watch the Royal Shakespeare Company in action. It's hard to say no, although Stratford is a little out of the way. They would be presenting Julius Caesar and A Winter's Tale I think while we would be there. South Wales Castle Coch outside Cardiff (which I haven't seen) or Cardiff Castle (which I have) might be nice to visit. Llancaich Fawr living history site just outside of Cardiff is one of the best living history museums I have visited, and I'd like to go back (and think Robin would like it). There are probably other nice things to do around Cardiff, too. I think St Fagan's museum of Welsh life and culture is there, and it's sort of nifty. Swansea was my home for three months, and I'd enjoy just walking around again, showing Robin my hall of residence (Neuadd Lewis Jones), the Pub on the Pond, Castle Square, and some of the other places I spent time. I can't think of many good tourist sights there, though, beyond me indulging my own nostalgia. Walking along the beach might be nice, but there are plenty of other beaches, and going out to the Gower Peninsula below Swansea would be pretty, but there are other pretty places, too. I'd like to go out to St David's, and if we take our ferry to Ireland (or the one back) through Fishguard, we could take a bus from Haverfordwest to St David's and see the world's smallest city, the cathedral, and the walking path along the shore. It would be a very nice walk and a fun visit, although also a little out of the way. Going to North Wales would offer some of the most impressive castles in the world, but would certainly be out of the way--and we can go to one or two out of the way places, but cannot bounce around the entire sceptered isle. Whatever happens, we will take a ferry from Wales to Ireland, probably either to Cork or to Rosslare Harbour outside Wexford. We'll almost certainly see the Waterford Crystal factory, and want to travel through the countryside some, but I don't really know where. My brief visit to Ireland in 2000 was very pleasant, but I do not have anything specific in mind that I want to see there. Robin, however, is very excited about seeing the countryside, would probably enjoy traditional music and arts and crafts, and really wants to listen to people talk (she likes hearing all kinds of British accents--I want her to hear a Welsh one). Then it's a ferry back to Wales then to London then to the airport and then home. Current Mood: excited Current Music: Rule Britannia (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 26th, 2009
2:59 pm	Risk at three stages of a man's life As mentioned in my last post, I am deeply annoyed by Board Game Geek's hostility to the game Risk. I wrote a little review of it, but I wanted to write more, so here it is. I have enjoyed Risk for twenty-five years, and am saddened to see that it is so unpopular in these parts [Board Game Geek]. This has led me to think over Risk's role in my life over the past quarter-century as I have grown from a boy to a man. I suppose I will have to post a follow up about the time I retire. I. As a boy of four, I learnt to play Risk from my grandfather, and occasionally played it with some of my cousins and once or twice my uncle. I rarely won, but considering that I was playing against people ranging from 9 to 59 years my senior, I do not (and did not) feel bad about it. My grandfather had an old set of the game, presumably purchased in the 1960s when the game was young, with a garish board and wooden cubes to represent armies. I asked for my own set for my fifth birthday, and got one with plastic Roman numerals (and pink pieces replaced by brown ones). Among other things, this helped my learn my Roman numerals (something I have discovered, to my shock, that many young people no longer know how to read). Risk as a whole also taught me about making sets of card and reading dice, both of which gave me a basic introduction to probability that would be useful in learning and playing many later games (and it was sometimes useful in school, as well). We played Risk with the original rules (which even then were given as an option, not the main way to play) in which each player was dealt an equal number of cards and then put one army on each pictured country. We then went on to play an aggressive game with increasingly large armies sweeping across continents (not, for the most part, huddling up in defensive postures). We made up our own rules, sometimes, too. Most of them were silly, and probably made for what was technically a worse game (I believe there were rules for machine guns at one point that made the role of luck, already fairly high in such a dice-heavy game, grossly more so), but they were fun for a boy and his grandfather. When my grandfather played with my uncle or my cousins, they sometimes set up three boards side by side (perhaps even five boards, according to legend, but I never saw that) with different rules for getting from one board to another. Nonetheless, as experienced players, they could usually tell who would win a game withing fifteen minutes, and finish a game (assuming the apparent loser did not concede) in 30-45 minutes, then play again (they usually played many series of games, keeping track of wins and losses). Risk was a fun, fast, family activity, and I miss those days. As I entered elementary school, my family spent several years moving from place to place, and while I still saw my relatives fairly often, we did not play board games much (preferring card games when several of us were together--we mostly played Risk as a two-person game), and I let my copy sit, rarely used, for a long time. II. As a teenager, I began to get back into board games (as well as collectible card games and role-playing games), and returned to Risk while away at Governor's School (a month-long structured summer school/summer camp on a college campus for nerds whose parents wanted them to buff up their resumes). I quickly came to hate it. A friend at Governor's School either brought his copy with him or bought one on one of our rare excursions from campus, and we played late into the night, usually 4-6 of us at a time. We used the standard rules, I think, with each player beginning the game with many more armies than starting countries, and generally trying to gain control of a particular continent and then defend it until, through small skirmishes, gaining enough cards to make a massive, world-smashing set. Diplomacy and pacts with other players was essential, and breaking agreements was heart-wrenching. At least to other players. I won a lot of the time (the second most frequent winner was a fellow who was patient enough for me, or someone else, to nearly win aggressively but overextend himself in the process). Eventually I explained how I beat everyone else: I did not play to win (as they did, carefully building their armies and protecting their continents), but to make everyone else lose (and thus win by default). It was better for me to bust up their continents quickly than to build up my own over the course of hours, until one person finally got the right combination of cards to risk an attack. I did not like making agreements I knew I would have to break, and I eventually broke agreements I did end up making, because there was no choice in a game based on wiping out all the other players' armies. This really angered some of the other players, and eventually stopped our Risk-playing, which was a shame, but probably also saved us many late hours and some friendships. I played Risk (and playing it with the original rules) with some of my other friends in high school, but it tended to come in behind Axis and Allies (especially once we had some of the variants), Dragon Dice, Dungeons and Dragons, and the old collectible card game Dixie. III. As a young man in my twenties, finally come back home from graduate school and with a home and life of my own, I found time to play games casually with my old friends again (time I had not often had in college, and time that was spent, when it was available, on big games that made it worth getting together for a weekend), and Risk became a good choice from time to time. I do not claim that Risk was, or is, our favourite game, but it is one we can pull out and play quickly, especially if there are only two of us (or if two of us are waiting for more people to arrive). With the original rules, we can easily play in under 45 minutes, and understanding that it is a game of attacking, no-one has his feelings hurt if his colour is destroyed, particularly in a two-player game in which there is no point at all in negotiation. Once when undertaking a project for my second Master's degree (which I was able to do at home) I had to simulate having a disability for a day, and I chose blindness so I could have a real challenge. To make the most of it, I invited two friends over and I played Risk against them blindfolded (because it has such a static board and simple rules that I thought I could keep up with it in my head). I beat one of my friends and could have beaten his brother, I think, if my memory was just a little better, so I would have caught him slipping a few of my pieces off the board, weakening my armies just enough for me to lose. Still, it was the most fun I'd had in weeks. IV. Hopefully in a few years I will have children and will, three or four years after that, begin teaching them Risk. There are certainly better games today, but that does not make Risk a bad game (if it is played right--and others may prefer playing it with the standard modern rules, too: as long as they enjoy it, that is also playing it right), and I think it is a great introduction to gaming, including, as it does, multiple decisions, set-making, dice-rolling, and clear victory conditions. Now that I have inherited my grandfather's games, Risk also has brightly-coloured wooden blocks, and those of us who have come to love Euro-games all know how much fun those are. Current Mood: contemplative Current Music: Paradise (Comment on this)
2:14 pm	(Review) Risk: A fast, light two-player game that still makes my heart pound The web site Board Game Geek is one of my most deadly time-wasters (although I am embarrassed to admit that Facebook's silly little games are even worse for me) and a dangerous inducement to spend money unnecessarily. It has reviews, strategy, and other information on board games, which are my principal hobby these days (much as I love and miss re-enacting, role-playing, and doing little sketches). This gives me a lot to read (my primary addiction on and off the internet) and introduces me to board games that I then wish to buy. Sometimes, though, it touches a nerve and makes my blood boil. I have recently noticed what seems to be a long-running trend on the various Board Game Geek message boards, namely a disdain for the classic board game Risk. Finally I posted my own review of the game, and may soon post another article as well. Here is my review: Risk: A fast, light two-player game that still makes my heart pound Either I am playing Risk wrong, or everyone else is. I frequently read that Risk is unpopular, takes forever, has no depth, and is an overly defensive game. I certainly agree that Risk is not a highly-detailed wargame, but I do not think it was ever meant to be, and criticising it for something it is not supposed to be is wrong (although disliking it for that reason and choosing to play something in which military units are more differentiated than wooden cubes is certainly understandable. What is much easier to solve is the problem of Risk being a long, dull, game of defense and recriminatory negotiation. Just play with the original rules. Admittedly, this is not as obvious as I pretend it is. I learnt to play Risk at the age of four from my grandfather, and in his old set from the 1960s the rulebook included what I think it called the Original French Rules, and we always used those. I believe these rules were included in later rule books as well, but may have been dropped from the most recent ones. Here, then is a brief summary of them: Deal out the cards. Put one army on each territory on each card that you get. Play. This does work best with two players each managing three colours each (and that removes the problem of player elimination, although the best strategies certainly involve eliminating particular colours to capture their cards and reduce your opponent's options). However, it will work with any number of players, and, because having only one starting army in each space reduces the tendency to turtle up, the game plays so quickly that an eliminated player does not have to wait long to get into a new game. Some people still try to play this as a defensive game (and gaining control of Australia or North America still gives a player a great advantage), but this should be a game of speed and aggression: it is more useful to bust up someone else's continent than to gain one for yourself. Risk is not a game of great depth, and I am not arguing that it should be in Board Game Geek's top 50 games, but it is something my friends and I pull off the shelf if we want something quick and easy, but still aggressive (without making any pretense of being otherwise) and deeply engaging for the 25-45 minutes it takes to play, particularly if we only want a two-player game. Current Mood: aggravated Current Music: The Might Be Giants (Comment on this)
Monday, April 13th, 2009
6:54 pm	Undecorating TCAP testing starts tomorrow, and that means that anything remotely educational or informative in the classroom has to be removed or concealed. So, I spent part of the day taking down posters in my room. This is sort of depressing (as is seeing the bare walls afterwards). Some of the posters and maps are my own, and I took them down carefully to save. A lot of others were posters made by former students, some even from my first semester in this room. Some of those I saved; most I did not. I've always found packing up and cleaning up and throwing out depressing, and this sort of got me down. Of course, this would have had to happen at some point, because eventually everyone in our building will have to move out when our turn to be renovated comes (which is supposedly next October, but Lord knows when it will really be). Current Mood: melancholy Current Music: Paradise (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 12th, 2009
5:52 pm	Lenten Vow Comes to an End Robin and I gave up dining out for Lent, and I have really enjoyed it. Eating at home has been nice, and we have saved money, saved time, and lost a little weight. What surprised me over the past 40 days (not counting Sundays) is how shocked other people were to learn that we had done this, sometimes shocked to a point that resembled defensiveness or even anger, especially when we said that it included food bought as take-away or at a drive-through and eaten at home. People said, 'how can you stand it,' or even 'how can you do that!' Of course, most of those were relatives who eat out (or eat take-away) often (probably too much), so I suspect they felt some kind of unstated criticism of an important part of their lives in our decision to avoid eating away from home. I got similar responses in the days when I did not watch any television, and I have provoked annoyance from people when I have spoken ill of the wide-spread use of mobile phones (particularly text messages) or of the habit of everyone driving everywhere--I would love a good public transportation system in Johnson City, but I don't think the buses run anywhere near my house, and if they do, it is only once an hour. One of my professors at Milligan once said that when you criticise television (which I often do) you upset a lot of people because you are making fun of their mother. Current Mood: bemused Current Music: Christ the Lord is Risen Today (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, April 11th, 2009
9:24 pm	The Lost State I just attended a workshop on the State of Franklin at Tipton-Haynes Historic Site as part of a grant-funded series of programmes for teachers by the Jonesborough Heritage Alliance. It included a short lecture on the State of Franklin, a tour of the grounds with a focus on where key parts of the Battle of the Lost State of Franklin (27-29 February, 1788) took place, and a couple of activities focusing on using primary sources in the classroom (with some interesting, albeit barely legible, copies from the Draper Manuscripts and a comic book from the 1950s called "Chuckey Jack's a-Comin'" The main speaker was Dr Kevin Barksdale of Marshall University, West Virginia. This was a real treat, although one tinged with a little bitterness. Dr Barksdale wrote his PhD dissertation on the State of Franklin, and we received a copy of the book he recently had published on the topic that I look forward to reading. It turns out that he was a graduate student at the University of West Virginia who contacted me when I was working on my MA thesis on the State of Franklin to see if he should keep working on the subject. Knowing I was not going to do much more work on the topic for a while, I encouraged him to do so. We spoke a little bit about our research and his conversations with my mentor at The University (Peter Onuf), and he complimented my thesis (and asked for a copy, which I will mail to him). My work is even mentioned in his bibliography, and he recognised my work in front of everyone there and told me he was very pleased to meet me (and I told him the same, quite honestly). I enjoyed his presentation very much, and gained several new insights into the State of Franklin's history, and look forward to his next book, which will focus on Spain's intrigues in the West. The bittersweet element in the meeting was that whatever call there might have been for a new book on Franklin has probably been met by his, so that my own hopes to expand my thesis into a new book are probably in vain (although I suppose I might make something of my original plan to address Franklin as just one of several frontier state movements). On the other hand, when I asked him if he knew of any good biography of General Wilkinson, the sinister puppet-master of the early republican frontier, he said there was none (so I did not feel so ignorant in not knowing of any), but that one is in progress as we speak, and that should be an adventure to read, indeed. I hope to take one of the Heritage Alliance's summer institutes late in June, and if so, I will get to see him again and take a three day tour of Williamsburg and other nearby historic towns with about thirty local teachers. It should be fun! Current Mood: bouncy Current Music: St. Clair's Defeat (Comment on this)
8:58 pm	Dans ce pays-ci, il est bon de tuer de temps en temps un amiral pour encourager les autres According to that humourous, dirty old reprobate Voltaire, in Britain it is thought wise, from time to time, to execute and admiral in order to encourage the others. Perhaps a similar thought inspired the decision a year ago to deny me tenure. To my surprise and gratification, this provoked petitions, letters, and other protests and offers of support by students, their families, and faculty, which doubtless contributed to a fourth probationary year during which I had a second chance to earn tenure. It has been a hard year. As a test I was given all new classes--8th grade history (which I did not expect to like, but really did once I got into the swing of it) and 9th grade honours modern history (which was a lot of work, but probably worth it; I will teach it a little differently if I teach it again, though)--and apparently I passed. I was voted into tenure last week at the April School Board meeting and the relief is tremendous--so much that it is difficult to accept it as real: indeed, I continue to have the sick sense in my stomach that I have had the past twelve months, primarily, I suppose, out of habit. No doubt it will clear up soon. This finally lets Robin and me plan for the future, as well. If she can get her passport in time we may spend the first two weeks of June in England, Wales, and Ireland. If not, we will probably go to Minnesota, or possibly even back to New England (we bought an electric griddle this year and have made so many pancakes that we are down to just one and a half gallons of maple syrup, so we will have to go back to Vermont some time in the next year or so). We will probably try to make an offer on the parcel of woods behind the house, although I fear the owner may want more for it than we are willing to pay. After that, it should only be two and a half years until we begin adding to the population of Tennessee's oldest county. If Jeopardy! will only call me from the waiting list to the contestant list, it will be a happy year indeed. In any event, last week was quite a relief and a reward (that I hope I am not jeopardising by writing about it--internal disagreements in the school system probably ought to be kept quiet). If any of my few readers had a hand in getting me 25 more years of employment, I thank them. I also discourage anyone ever mentioning it again to any member of the school system's administration, as I am trying to keep a low profile for the next few years. Current Mood: encouraged Current Music: Franklin Pierce's Last Ride (2 Comments |Comment on this)
7:56 pm	When Things Go Wrong, Go West: A Review of Polk's Folly by William R. Polk I just finished a book I have meant to read for a decade, Polk's Folly: An American Family History by William R. Polk. I have always admired President Polk, even before discovering that he is a distant relative (Sarah Childress Polk is a great-aunt several generations back on my maternal grandfather's mother's side). I was told that Polk's Folly was not only about James K. Polk, but I decided to read it anyway. The Polk family came to America from Ireland (where they had recently immigrated from Scotland) in the unhappy aftermath of the English Civil War, in which Robert Bruce Pollok was involved. They settled in Maryland on unpromising ground: one early farmstead was a swamp known as 'Polk's Folly.' From Maryland, the Polks spread into North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Texas, and elsewhere (in one case marrying into the French nobility and in another into the circle of courtiers at the Court of St James; the author's mother is German nobility). The book is a story of the Polk Family, or rather a history of America through the eyes of a particular family. From Scotch-Irish immigrants to Indian traders and Indian fighters, independence leaders and militia commanders to the Presidency, Texas cowboys to diplomats, war heroes to journalists, courtiers to crusaders for justice, the Polks, it seems, have been everywhere. Because the book covers so vast a subject, there are places where I would have enjoyed more detail, particularly Lucius Burch's struggles with Boss Crump's machine in Memphis (Burch was descended from Polks on his mother's side), which are mentioned but briefly in the last chapter, and in the cattle ranching days of the Old West. The book's scope does perhaps excuse a few minor historical inaccuracies, although having caught two or three in areas I know something about makes me wonder if there are others in areas about which I am unfamiliar. Despite this, the insight into three centuries of American history from the unifying perspective of one family is breathtaking, as are the great accomplishments (James K. Polk's acquisition of most of the American Southwest and Pacific states, Leonidas Polk's work as a Bishop, founder of Sewanee College, and service and sacrifice during the War for Southern Independence) and the smaller ones (one Polk shot the sheriff of Laredo, Texas to avoid being robbed in his sleep, then sold horses to the British Army during the Boer Wars). Although Polk's Folly has a particular appeal to me as a Tennessean, an admirer of our 11th president, and a great-great-great-great-grand-nephew of James K. Polk, I believe it would interest anyone with a love of American history, particularly that of the colonial frontier, the South, and the West. Current Mood: thoughtful Current Music: James K. Polk (Comment on this)
Sunday, December 21st, 2008
9:19 pm	Unorthodox Sports Once in a while even I am stunned. Science Hill is apparently forming a Quidditch team. It seems that it is already a popular sport, not just at Hogwarts, but at a number of Northeastern colleges. Not willing to be left out, Science Hill is starting a team, too. I have bought a T-shirt to show solidarity with the unusual athletics (and have sold a MBA T-shirt in return), but doubt I will participate beyond going to watch the try-outs (although I have heard a rumour that I am actually helping sponsor it--hopefully that rumour is unfounded). If nothing else, I did promise the guys that I'd come watch them try to fly. Current Mood: amused Current Music: You Can Fly! (Comment on this)
Friday, December 19th, 2008
12:23 am	Eight pages (four front and back, so it weighs an ounce), 5,480 words, and 83 footnotes My Christmas letter is done. Now I just have to print off 125 copies. Current Mood: tired Current Music: Angels We Have Heard on High (Comment on this)
Thursday, December 4th, 2008
10:41 pm	Seeking Reflection and Inspiration The first Sunday of Advent has come and gone (and Robin and I have even constructed our own Advent wreath, with the purple and rose candles being ones we dipped ourselves in the driveway) and Saint Nicholas's Day will be here soon. That means it is time to write my Christmas letter for the year. Normally I construct bits and pieces of it in the inner recesses of my mind throughout the year, but I have hardly thought about it these past twelve months. I suppose I will recycle some of my entries on this journal (although I have not really done that before, and am not sure I want to do it now--it seems so cheap), and I can certainly talk about our new dogs, our trip to the West Coast, my new career in real estate, and my work at the high school (although I am trying to keep all my opinions there to myself these days). I suppose I could talk about getting back on the waiting list for Jeopardy! since I have not mentioned that to many people. Perhaps I can even make some adventures up. As Herodotus supposedly said, 'Very few things happen at the right time, and the rest do not happen at all: the conscientious historian will correct these defects.' I don't even have a real theme in mind for this year's letter, which is something I never meant to have guide my early letters, but later realised I ended up having each time, and now feel I ought to keep in mind as I write. I just feel so drained of all energy and desire (except to trespass on and adversely possess the woods behind the house) that it is hard to focus on the one real literary effort I still get to produce each year. The strange thing is that I felt so much better yesterday, and I can think of no real reason for the change. I am open to suggestions. Current Mood: tired Current Music: Twelve Days of Christmas (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008
9:23 pm	Hallowe'en Special About a month and a half ago I was in my local Super Wal-Mart. I was in the electronics department, for reasons that now elude me, and happened to pass the DVD section. The endcap of one of the aisles was a display of horror movies suitable for mid-October. Among famous and unknown films was a stack of boxes holding Five Across the Eyes, a horror film made in Morristown, county seat of Hamblen County, starring my old friend Stonewall and directed by Robin's and my wedding videographer. This was sort of a thrill, as we had seen the premiere of the film at the Paramount Theatre in Bristol, and wondered what the movie's professional future might be. It's very nice to see our friends succeed at their dreams--I'm almost too big a man to be jealous. In any event, if you enjoy bloody teenage slasher horror films, you might enjoy Five Across the Eyes, and I encourage you to watch a locally-made movie starring a Science Hill alumna Besides, this gives me a Bacon Number of 4. Of course, that does not really matter any more, since the movie I made with Billy Ray Cyrus (or Billy Ray, as I now call him) gives me a Bacon Number of 3 (as does my passing acquaintance with Matt Czuchry). To counterbalance Czuchry's fame I showed my portion of Hillbilly: The Real Story in class recently, but my plan failed, as none of the young people spotted me. Current Mood: pleased Current Music: Five Across the Eyes (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, November 29th, 2008
8:48 pm	Gilmore Girls Come to Science Hill Science Hill had a Thanksgiving programme on Tuesday and, in contrast to most of our assemblies, pep rallies, and other school-wide events, the 8th and 9th graders were allowed to attend (although separately from the 10th - 12th grader students). As usual, it was a nice programme, with the Student Government Association announcing the number of families we are feeding this year (77, I believe), the Topper Tots from child care class telling jokes and leading the Turkey Dance, and a guest speaker. The difference was that this year's guest speaker was world-famous television star and Science Hill alumnus Matt Czuchry (1995). It was a pretty good talk about following your dreams, making out with hot girls (the primary reward of being a famous actor on some programme called Gilmore Girls), and being upstaged by the Turkey Dance. It also included two words unsuitable for young people, so I wonder if the administration are glad they invited him. When Czuchry concluded, a girl in the audience asked for his phone number, and he was nearly mobbed when he took his seat. Apparently his is a popular television programme. I spent most of the talk trying to recall if I had any classes with Czuchry as a student at Science Hill. I think I may have, but he was two years ahead of me, and it was long ago, so I am not certain. When classes resumed and the students asked what I thought of the presentation, I mentioned to my students that I was stuck in that conundrum (but was glad that Czuchry had made something of himself), and they wondered if I had had him as a student. I told them he was two years older than I, and they were incredulous nearly to the point of riot. I finally reassured them that I was fifty and let it go at that (although one of my classes actually knows my age, and a few of the more conscientious students corrected the others when they were flabbergasted to think that an actor they admire and desire is older than their teacher). I could not help but be amused, though. Current Mood: amused Current Music: Hilltopper Fight Song (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, November 17th, 2008
3:07 pm	The Danger of Wishful Thinking Last week, I believe on Thursday or Friday, something inspired me to read up, as I sometimes do, on German dueling societies and the practise of the Mensur. This is a tradition (descended from the times when dueling was common and often fatal in German and other Central and Eastern European countries' universities) of testing the mettle of young men in fraternal collegiate societies. They dress in chain mail and take turns swinging huge swords at one another, trying to cut the other's face. The goal is less to cut the other man as to take a cut (or Schmiess--a smite) yourself without flinching. Traditionally the dueling scars that resulted were seen as a badge of honour and in some cases as a mode of entrée into the better circles of business and society. I have often regretted that such a practise does not exist in the United States, and wondered if there might be some way to create and encourage it. Then, during our Mediæval Battle Association meeting Friday afternoon, a young lady smote me directly in the face, splitting my lip. I was not much distressed, (less so than she, certainly) and wiped the blood from my lip without another thought. When I was told by another Mediæval Battle Associate that there was blood on my teeth I was a bit unnerved, but not too much, although when yet another one told me (after I had applied my handkerchief to my face several times) that there was still blood in my beard, I began to wonder at the severity of it. When I finally had time after the meeting to examine the wound, I was a bit taken aback at the quantity of raw meat exposed on my lip, and devoted some time to cleaning it and even trimming part of my moustache away from it after I returned home. Happily, within twenty-four hours the bleeding had stopped, and there is now a large scab on my lip. Although I hope it reaches a point where it no longer hurts to smile or spit, I cannot help but hope that an exciting looking scar remains that I may in the future describe as a dueling scar from my youth. Current Mood: amused Current Music: Beethoven's Fifth Symphony (Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 4th, 2008
11:15 am	The Back 1 Behind our new (since May 2006) house is a little wood, which I have long coveted. My original plan was to claim it through adverse possession by openly, notoriously, and continuously occupying it in a hostile and adverse manner (we have had our tomahawk target on it for a couple of years, and we built a gate in our back fence so we can trespass on it), but since I joined the North East Tennessee Association of REALTORS and gained access to courthouse records, I have actually found out who the owners of the area are and how the land is divided up. Most of the woods are part of a one-acre parcel that is part of my subdivision but not part of the city (the city line is along my back fence). That parcel, in turn, belongs to the man who owns the big field beyond it, but it is considered separate from the rest of his 11-acre property. Furthermore, he is trying to sell his land, and I am considering asking if he will sell that parcel separately. I am not sure what I would do with the land if I could buy it (and I have estimated its value to within a $6,000 range, within which I could afford the lower end of the spectrum, but would be reluctant to spend enough to buy it at a higher-end price). In some ways it would be nice just to leave it as it is, or perhaps improve the fencing around it so the dogs could run freely in it. I have also considered building a little cabin there for storage and for a retreat. It might also be nice to keep bees back there. On the other hand, I have also considered clearing part of the land, either for an orchard or a little garden plot. Obviously I could do more than one of these--fencing it would work with all other possible uses, and keeping bees along with an orchard or a garden plot would make good sense--but I do not think I could do all of them. Clearing and plowing the flat parts for a garden would counteract my desire to have a little bit of forest of my own (no matter how little that bit). It is a hard choice, not least because it does seem an unnecessary expense at a time when watching our little treasury is more important than ever. Still, if it could become a garden, it could be a step towards self-sufficiency and Mr Jefferson's agrarian ideal. Current Mood: ambitious Current Music: Rocky Top (2 Comments |Comment on this)