And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes; Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone

Well, the weekend is upon us once more and once more the majority of my time will be be spent in graduation. I just returned from a lovely, filling breakfast with the Booth College Board. There's an alumni presentation and reception tomorrow afternoon; and the graduation itself on Sunday. I decided not to go to the Grad banquet, although that was the most enjoyable event at Prov last weekend.

This is the first year that so many students I've taught , so many students I have loved teaching, are graduating. I watched a presentation of strengths-based leadership and one of the things the presenter said about strengths is "a strength is something that makes you feel strong." In figuring out strengths you figure out the activities that makes you feel excited, rejuvenated, like you've accomplished something. If this is true, then my strength is teaching students who enjoy literature and film and are excited to learn more. They make me strong.

I know there are students who make me feel this way who aren't leaving, and that there will be future students who will make me strong, but there are so many I'm saying goodbye to this year. And it is, as the poet says, "so hard to say goodbye to yesterday."

Wait. That wasn't the poet; that was Boyz II Men.

And she left in the fall, that's her picture on the wall.

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button

Opening Credits: "The Island, Come And See, The Landlord's Daughter, You'll Not Feel The Drowning" The Decemberists

Waking Up: "Walk Away" Tom Waits

First Day At School: "Blue Turning Grey Over You" Louis Armstrong. Apparently this part of the movie is Woody Allenesque

Sex Song: "Ol' 55 (live)" Tom Waits, from the VH1 Storytellers. "My time went quickly, I went lickety splittly"... no comment

Party Song: "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" Dana Fuchs, Joe Anderson & TV Carpio. So, apparently it'll be like every high school party I went to.

Falling In Love: "Whatever Gets you Through the day" The Radio. lol

Fight Song: "Devil's Eyes" Buck 65

Getting Stoned: Love Supreme: part 2, resolution

Breaking Up: "Under your Spell/Standing (reprise)" Amber Benson/Anthony Head. Wish I could stay.

Prom: "Tango til they're Sore" Tom Waits. I wish they played this at my prom.

Life's OK: "Hold on (to What)" Beautiful South. That would explain the upcoming mental breakdown

Mental Breakdown: "A Hard Rain's a-gonna fall" Dylan

Driving: "Rhymin' and Stealing" Beastie Boys

Flashback: "Jersey Girl" Tom Waits My itunes likes Tom Waits.

Getting Back Together: "My Guitar Wants to Kill yer Momma" Frank Zappa

Wedding: "Little Drop of Poison" Tom Waits And she left in the fall, that's her picture on the wall. She always had a little drop of poison.

Birth of First Child: "Trane's Blues" Miles Davis. My kid's going to be cool

Final Battle: "Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)" The Decemberists

Death Scene: "Girl of the North Country" Dylan

Funeral Song: "Figure Eight" Blossom Dearie. Haunting and educational - School House ROCKS!!

Closing Credits: "All you Need is Love" Dana Fuchs & Jim Sturgess

If I could change your mind, I'd really love to break your heart

Well, my three classes have written their exams and I'm almost finished all the grading. I'd love to say that when I'm finished this last batch of papers that I'll be able to take a couple of days off and relax, but that's simply not going to happen. I have two consecutive weekends of grad ceremonies and hoopla and then a week-long intensive course in May that I have to prepare. In fact, this is going to be a busy summer. I have a conference in June, new classes to prepare, a program to create and two week-long intensive courses to teach.

Busy, busy, busy.

But this weekend I plan on enjoying myself at Prov's graduation weekend. There's a banquet on Saturday, a few things on Sunday. I get to dress up in my fancy-pants robes and see a whole lot of students I've grown to love and respect walk across the stage and graduate. And I'm kind of thinking about it as my graduation from Providence too.

I sold opium, firewood and lead

Taught my last class at Providence College. I'll still be going out there a few more times before I'm officially done, but this was the last day of teaching, the last day of "normal" work.

Don't know what I was expecting - weeping? being carried out of the room on the shoulders of the students? - but it all felt a little anti-climatic. Some students came up after class and told me how much they liked the class and that was fantastic. I really appreciate it when student do that. And it wasn't a bad day or anything, but the whole day just felt a little off, a little rushed. People I wanted to hang out with weren't around or were busy and I was busy with grading, so it hardly felt "special," which is what I was hoping for.

Maybe I sound whiny - not my intention at all. I've loved my time there.

Good as gold and stupid as mud

My wife will be so pleased...

25

Ain't Bobby so cool?

Anxiety? Giving a public lecture in 35 minutes and being sure no one will be showing up. I have an Inbox full of regrets...

I know Dave thinks that I've been shurking my bloggin duties and I have lost the right to be called a blogger... maybe I have. There have been many possible posts abrewing in my brain. I've just had a hard time finding 1) the time to blog and 2) the right language to express myself. The time is simply the reality of end of the term pressures - primarily marking and committee work. The language is part the need to censor myself - Raw EMOTION doesn't necessarily fly - and compose my thoughts in a manner fitting who I am.

This is all vague nonsense. I'll try to do better.

I blew a tire out for the first time in my life on Monday. Could have died.... if I lost control of the car and rolled it. Almost changed my first tire too, but thankfully a nice Purelator Courier guy stopped and helped me. He figured if I was reading my manual at the side of the road, then I didn't know what I was doing.

Did I thank you for the items you sent to me?

I wish I had time to write a bit more frequently here. Since returning from my business trip on Sunday, I've been going non-stop - class, meetings, class, more meetings, catching up on marking, picking Rachel up from the airport. There was a mildly amusing incident involving lost keys that I'll spare you from; though I will say it concerns yours truly on his hands and knees in a snowbank with a flashlight.

I'm particularly bummed that Leonard Cohen's going to be touring this summer in what's being described as his last major tour. The man's almost two hundred and I certainly don't begrudge him retiring... but the tour schedule does not a thing for me. Right now the only Canadian dates are Toronto and (of course) Montreal. Most dates are in European, where the sophisticated European palate has a deeper appreciation from Cohen's peculiar blend of darkness and desire, whimsy and longing. Still, as Leonard saw me through many a heartache, I'd like to see him in concert once before one of us died.

And my best friend, my doctor, won't even say what is I got

I have admit it, I've been really depressed lately. I think I'm grieving the loss of the Mockingbird cast. Most of us still see each other around campus, but it's different. Instead of an almost familial relationship, we've been thrust back into acquaintance-land.

Maybe that makes no sense if you haven't experienced something similar.

A self-ordained professor's tongue too serious to fool

As a Valentine's Day present to my wife, I agreed to accompany her to an exercise class at her all-female gym. As the gym was interviewing guys for a soon-to-be-opened co-ed location and there'd be males there anyway, they extended an invitation to the husbands, boyfriends, brothers, fathers of its members: "Come... and be tortured."

I'm sure part of reason behind Rachel asking me to show off just how fit she is. Unfortunately, going I would be showing off just how unfit I am. I have no trouble admitting that my wife is my physical superior. She's been working out for awhile. She can run further and faster, push more, squat, curl, whatever. Some people might think this speaks to my own laziness. I like to think of it as "progress."

We arrived early and I suggested staking out a spot at the back of the room. If I was going to embarrass myself (and, let's face it, that was assuredly going to happen) I would like a little privacy. At the front of the class, not only would I be SEEN, I'd run the risk of being singled out or, worse, asked to do something. My intention was to remain as inconspicuous as possible, no easy feat in a room with floor-to-ceiling mirrors that surrounded the room.

Most of the other guys were the previously mentioned interviewees. As potential instructors, these fellows seemed relaxed and at ease. They looked fit and confidently stretched their muscles to warm up. I, on the hand, embarrassed by both my lack of development and ability, stubbornly remained in my fleece sweatshirt. Despite the six-pack confidence of the guys, I was reassured by the variety of female body type - everything from pepper-pot to super model. Eventually, after nearly passing out from the heat, I removed my sweatshirt.

When the instructors entered the room, I knew I was in deep trouble. One was pleasant... the other one scared me. She was short (like 5 foot); she had short, bright red hair with blond streaks and she was built like a tank. She sported an Ultimate Fighting Championship sweatshirt and fingerless cage-fighter gloves. She walked around the room, sizing up the men who had dared enter her lair. "And who do you belong to?" she asked as she squeezed my hand. Afraid my voice would crack, betraying my fear, I nodded at my wife.

The music started and people spread out a safe arm's (or leg's) distance from their closest neighbour. After a brief warning about watching out for other people's feet, we began with running on the spot and some simple punching combinations. I was all right for a little while, but was soon lost in a Busby Berkley nightmare of punching and kicking. The little red tank occasionally came down from the front to "encourage" those of us who appeared hopelessly lost. While I never managed to follow the routine, I tried to keep moving, relying heavily on my wife's under-the-breath directions ("Go left") to keep me from ploughing into someone or, worse, being ploughed into.

After 35 minutes or so, the little red tank instructed us on something she called "The street fighting head punch."

"The punch starts over your head and comes all the way down to just past your knees. Feet apart. Use your non-punching hand like your holding him by the collar or the hair. It's like you're punching some sucker who's on the ground in the face. Now I want to see full extension on those punches. No wimpy shoulder level punches - full extension. Or I'm coming out there to get you!"

Needless to say, my punches were extended as fully as humanly possible. Anything to stave off the wrath of the little red tank.

After 50 minutes of high-energy aerobics, we "cooled off" with the most painful push up exercises I have ever done. The little red tank shouted to us as she took the push up position, "Now I want to see all you guys on your toes. Proper form." Now I can do push ups pretty well, but I was just this side of heart-attack city. Still, I was more afraid of the little red tank than a coronary episode. I started out on my toes and started doing the push ups.

"Don't," I heard Rachel whisper to me. "You'll kill yourself. Do them on your knees." Worried that knee push ups (or "girls push ups") would incur the tank's wrath, I looked up to see if she could spot me from her position. I scanned the room and found none of the other guys, not a one of them, was doing toe push ups. Every single one of them was on his knees. Confident that there were 6 or 7 guys closer to the front that the tank could pick on if she chose, I dropped to my knees.

As we were driving home, I told my wife how impressed with her I was. She regularly does two classes on Saturday and here I was as close to suicide as I've ever come after one.

I"ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

.... a couple more performances with this amazing cast.

The house music is playing, Val's almost ready to address the audience, and we're ready, READY to take the stage one last time and tell this story. Last night's performance was plagued with problems - some minor, some not so minor (a major character having a nosebleed on stage would fall in the later category). But we got through. Few people noticed.

I have to go.

It's time.

I saw her today at the reception

Last night's performance marked the half-way point of our Mockingbird run. Only two performances left and then it's all over. I must say, as tired as I am, I will really miss it. I haven't had so much fun in a long time.

Last night I also finished reading the novel, To Kill a Mockingbird.... about 5 minutes before I needed to be on stage. That college's English Lit prof had never read the novel was a bit of a joke among the cast. I had hoped to finish it before the talk-backs (on the off-chance someone asked about the novel), but I had other commitments and responsibilities.

He aint gonna let those two escape justice

We finished our first performance of To Kill a Mockngbird at about 1 o'clock. The audience (made up of mostly high school students) seemed into the play, and there was a general feeling of satisfaction amongst the cast and crew. Personally, I felt the mob scene (of which I am apart) was the best we've done.

There's another performance tonight (at 7) and two more tomorrow. And I continue to be humbled by the talent in this group. They are fantastic.

Now the courtroom was quiet...

Well, To Kill a Mockingbird opens in a few short days (first performance is Wednesday morning), and I think it's going to be a really good show. Personally, I'm bone-tired and a little despondent - a few events have taken some of the wind out of my sails - but this is going to be an amazing show. Prov has some truly remarkable actors (students, faculty and alum) and Val Hiebert is fantastic director; not only are they a talented bunch, but warm, inviting and encouraging. I'm honoured to be a small part of this production.

I will be writing more about the production and the people in the coming week. As I'm temporarily relocating to Prov during the course of the run, I have concoted the fantasy that I shall have ample time for reading, marking, and, most important to you, my gentle readers, writing. I also hope to tell the tale of my experience of a Combat aerobics class at my wife's all-female gym. It was not pretty.

I was meant to tread these boards, of this much I am certain

So, I'm in a play.

I know I haven't updated at all since the new year and that I still have a couple of excellent fruit stories untold, but those shall have to wait. I am in a play.

It's a bit part. I mean, I'm on stage for a long time, but I only say one line. I'm not sure it's a particularly important line, but it's a line nonetheless. Most of the time I'm sitting in the in audience of the courtroom and try not to draw much attention to myself (oh, the play is To Kill a Mockingbird). Actually, I have two parts. One part is just a guy in a crowd (actually, "mob" would be more accurate). I'll have to do a superfast costume change and then I'm someone else.

When I finally get to say my one line I have to use a southern accent. I'm pretty good with British accents, but not so good with southern ones. I want to sound like Rhett Butler, but I'm afraid I'll end up sounding like Blanche from "The Golden Girls".

And so happy Christmas and a happy New Year

I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do much posting in the next couple of days. My in-laws are set to arrive tomorrow evening sometime and most of the next few days will be spent in the traditional holiday activities: eating, watching movies and avoiding conflict. I do have some excellent stories to share, but I'm afraid they'll have to wait until the New Year. I want to tell you all about my experience with Grapples (apples that have been genetically modified to taste like grapes) as well as my first experience curling, for which I was rewarded with an orange. I didn't really see the whole "fruit theme" until I wrote that.

Mmm. Interesting. Who doesn't like fruit? Communists and hooligans, that's who.

Anyway, I hope everyone has a good holiday.

Merry Christmas, baby

Congratualtions are in order once more as my friends jpunk5 and kimbee gave birth (well, kimbee gave birth) to a lovely daughter on Dec 12th. The baby is healthy and happy and the lucky owner of a skull emblazoned onesy made for her by her proud papa.

A hundred floors above me in the Tower of Song

I read an interesting article in the Pamphleteer (the Providence College student paper) about their peaceful protest at St. Vital for Buy Nothing Day. I didn't know about this event, but I can tell you this: I agree with the sentiment.

I was in St. Vital on Friday night. Now I'm not really a mall person at the best of times, but to be in mall on a Friday evening just a few short weeks before Christmas? I'd rather be whipped naked through the streets of Transcona.

After five minutes of browsing in Chapters (which used to sell books), I found my way to a bench to wait out my time. Sitting on that bench, I was saddened at the sights around me: children whining for "more, more, more;" parents spoiling their offspring by giving in to their every whim; parcels, bags and package.

Later, when I got home, I put in "A Charlie Brown Christmas." As Charlie lamented the commercialization of the holiday, I thought back to my time at St. Vital and my inner-Brown sighed: Good grief.

Preserving the old ways from being abused

Happy St. Nicholas Eve, everybody. I hope that the former bishop of Turkey stops by your house with his six to eight black friends. "They might put some candy in your shoes, they might stuff you in a sack and take you to Spain, or they might just pretend to kick you."

God save Donald Duck, Vaudeville and Variety

I haven't updated in a while. There have been plenty of things to write about but most of them are/were either a) somewhat confidental and therefore inappropiate to comment on, or b) time sensitive and time just passed me by.

Despite the fact that it doesn't officially begin for another few weeks, it's winter. Winnipeg is capital-C cold. And snowy. Althought we didn't get dumped with as much snow as most of the country, I'm feeling the lower-back tightening that comes from shovelling. There have been more than a few white-knuckled drives home from Otterburne, which segues nicely into my big bit o' news. I won't have to make that long drive after June: I've been offered a full-time position at Booth College as Assistant Professor of English Literature and Film. I begin my new job July 1st.

Hey, baby

Congratulations are in order.

A tip of the hat to my friend, Jaimie, and her husband, Andrew, on the birth of their daughter, Hanna. I've seen pictures and she's very cute.