Stuff

 

Random thoughts.... probably like usual, but I am just admitting it I guess today:

1. I had a damn dental appointment this morning.  I dreaded it like usual.  I went through all the usual machinations I always do of worry and fret, and being EXTRA careful to do an extra extensive cleaning of my chompers..... first with dental floss, then with toothpaste, then with baking soda, then with a mouthwash with a touch of peroxide added, then mouthwash alone, and then finally a special high flouride toothpaste.  This was all before bed last night.  Then this morning, after my run, I did another scrub of the teeth with just toothpaste and mouthwash.  I took the mouthwash with me in the car so I could rinse my mouth one final time before entering the building of torture.  
   
2. Fortunately, all was fine again... and I received ample complements from the dental hygienist and also from the dentist himself about how I have very healthy teeth and gums.... and especially so with the fact that I have significant TMJ (Temporomandibular Joint Disorder) which is associated with more mouth/tooth maladies.  I do fastidiously take care of my teeth daily.... not to the extend of my pre-appointment ritual above... but I do typically brush 3-4 times a day and usually floss twice a day.
3. Back in the day when I was an ACTIVE pipe smoker, I also would fret and fuss about that before a dental visit.  Because it became the subject of conversation a variety of times (mostly more recently, say in the last 25 years... it was never much of a topic before that.... other than in a "hobby" sort of fashion, as my earlier dentist was a pipe smoker too), I began to refrain from my pipe the evening before a visit to attempt to avoid the inevitable discussions of said subject.  During the last 25 years when I did purposefully refrain the evening before... it used to be such a wonderful and exciting "treat" of sorts to get out of the dental torture chamber, and enjoy in a fully resplendent fashion the "fast breaking" pipe of the day on my way to the U.  
4. In order to get ready for the dental torture chamber, I had to short-change my run this morning as well.  I was able to only get in 9 miles (~14.5 km) before I HAD to leave to have enough time to do all the necessary work to steel myself for the dental visit.  
5. One very pleasurable thing DID occur at the dentist, however.  The dental hygienist, who was a new hygienist at the practice, and who was a very "chatty" sort of hygienist... gave me a very big complement on my beard and mustache..... declaring it to be a "magnificent" beard and mustache and saying it "framed my face" wonderfully.  I have to admit that I am still taken off guard by such complements since I let my beard and mustache grow out quite a bit beyond what was my prior norm.... but I also have to admit that I also sure enjoy the hell out of getting these surprise compements when they do occasionally occur!    When I get to tell my wife of this newest complement tonight, I am sure she will roll her eyes at me.  :)

On the drive to the U, I was thinking about a trip I took to Austin, TX that was perhaps ~20 years ago.  I may write about it soon.  I had not thought of those memories in quite a while.  

I guess my thoughts were NOT all that random today.  :)

PCS - 8.5….. the longing remains.  

PipeTobacco  

Pile of Logs

 

I had a helluva difficult time getting out of bed this morning.  Not physically, but mentally.  I simply wanted to sleep longer. I read until around 1:30am last night, so I guess it is somewhat understandable that I was not immediately bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when the damn alarm started it’s incessant clanging at 5:00am.  However, I am frustrated in myself for not doing what I needed to do to get up when I should have.  Because of my slovenly ways, I ended up only being able to run 8.5 miles (~13.5km) this morning,  before I had to quit so I could get cleaned up and to the U on time.  I am aggravated with myself. 

More final exams today for my students.  They are always feeling quite nervous and trepidatious at this time because in all my classes, the final examinations of the semester are cumulative across the entire course.  Not all professors do this, and hell, some do not even give final exams anymore.  But, I feel it is an important measure of their retaining of knowledge of the subject. 

On the way to the U, I was listening to NPR on the radio (half listening, truthfully, as it was rather monotonous... news lately has been rather unmeaningful and more or less like prattle most days it seems.... just yammering about Carlson, Lemon, Biden, and Trump.... little-to-no substance to any of it), when I let my mind drift... as you may guess.... to pipes.  For some reason, my thoughts swirled around my childhood.  I can remember some of my very earliest memories involved pipes.  I always was fascinated by them, long before I ever ventured to try them myself.  I can remember when I was three, maybe 4 years old, playing with Lincoln Logs and building homes, buildings and other structures, and I remember pulling pipes off of one or another of my Dad's pipe racks to incorporate into the buildings.... often as "chimneys" to the homes, or sometimes as displays in a store, etc.  I always loved the aroma of my Dad's pipes as he would work at his desk in his den.  I recalled how so very often the light streaming in from one of the windows would filter through the room and how you could see a thin, gentle, hazy line/layer of pipe smoke hovering perhaps at around five feet or so from the ground that spanned across the room.  I remember often climbing onto a chair and standing so that I could have my nose be at the height of that gentle haze so I could smell more fully the delightful array of scents.  I remember playing with my father's pipes in all the racks and rearranging the pipes on the racks in different configurations... by color, by size, by shape, or other groupings.  

PCS = 8.  Just a quiet longing. Difficult to describe.   

PipeTobacco     

Metronome

 

Perhaps it is since I had just played at our first of several Spring concerts last evening, but as I was running this morning at the track, I kept thinking of how my hoofing around and around on the infernal track sounded almost like a metronome.  My pace was of a similar speed of one of the songs we played, and I kept hearing my part in my head as I thought through the 4/4 measure cadence.  Only 10.1 miles (~16km) this morning, as I had to get to the U early to make sure my exam was up to snuff.  

I normally do all the upkeep on my "Frankenhorn" of a Bass Clarinet and have done so for the 35+ years I have owned the chimeric beast.  I am not sure if I ever wrote about it here, but the my horn is actually composed of parts and pieces of, if I remember correctly, three different bass clarinets that had been heading for the junkyard.  Way back then, I had always dreamed of having my own bass clarinet, but their pricey cost was something I could never justify.  A great friend of mine (now, sadly deceased), who was a French Hornist, happened to somehow find out about a school that was clearing out an array of battered and bowed, heavily used and abused horns (by decades of students of various manners and proclivities).  She very, very kindly scored for me the three nearly destroyed cases containing the nearly dead remains of three battered, dinged, and roughshod bass clarinets.  I was overjoyed!  And, I carefully sorted through the mass of pieces to pull from each case the best body components, the least dented bell, and least distorted crook neck, and extracted the best, least damaged keys, key cups, and what not from them, and carefully went to work at merging what I could scavenge back together into what became my well worn, but serviceable bass clarinet that I play to this day.  Through a progression of efforts, I massaged some of the more delicate components back into service, and through perhaps less delicate sheer force, I tried with as must grace as I could muster, to force out the dents and dings in the bell.  Returning the crook neck of the beast back into a semblance of its original shape took more effort and ingenuity than I initially thought I had in me, but the whole beast came out pretty damn good overall.  I even splurged at that time and bought a reasonably solid, used case for the beast afterwards.... since the original three cases were literally each tied with packaging twine when I received them as they had literally fallen apart.  Over the subsequent decades, I have worked to maintain the beast, making various adjustments, replacing pads and corks on occasion, oiling the mechanisms, etc.  

Well, the above was a bit of a side-track.  Sorry.  I had started out by wanting to say I was considering taking my "Frankenhorn" to a good music repair facility about an hour from here..... and might do so in about three weeks after this concert series is concluded.  I have been thinking I would like a true technician to potentially work to "regulate" my horn.  Regulation means basically, running a light bar through it to check for light leaks from the pads, and to perform a whole host of small, meticulous adjustments to try to get the horn to be as well functioning as possible.  Even though my horn works, I do admit I have to wrestle with it a fair amount as I am playing to get it to do what I need it to do.  The neighbor bass clarinetist that I sit next to in our group has a damn near brand new professional level Selmer that she bought perhaps two years ago.  It is a thing of beauty.  And, she let me play it briefly (using my mouthpiece).  It was a silky dream!  It was easy and simple both above the register and below. It was so smooth that I didn't have to do anything other than "be" there as my big "bag of wind" self and I could play it with great ease. Every key sealed instantly and with nearly no effort up and down all the octaves.  I felt a tinge of jealousy.  With my beast, it is almost akin to the work of herding cattle.... lots of effort and lots of wrangling and wrestling my beast to have it do what I want.  There are three bass clarinetists in our band (quite a rarity, to have that many, actually), and I am first chair in our section as deemed by our conductor.  I am thinking perhaps a professional repairperson may be able to finesse and regulate a few things on my beast to ease my efforts a bit.  I probably *could* try to figure out ways to regulate better the beast myself, but with the limited amount of time I have of late, I suspect such plans to get into my "fussy and meticulous mode" to figure things out would only end up being a pipe dream.... I never seem to have time. I am not sure how much I will potentially need to fork over for the privilege of having a true technician do some of the work for me.  The parts of my horn are all "student grade" and are likely in the 60-70 year old range by now, having had a couple of decades being beaten to hell by a few hundred kids, and then resurrected by me for almost 40 years. So, maybe a professional glance through might be warranted.

I had a literal pipe dream last night as well!  It was rather odd as well.... I was in a room that seemed almost museum-like with its pure white, stark walls.  Yet there was no art about on the walls or floor.  I was sitting comfortably in a bean bag chair (I do not own a bean bag chair) in the center of this vast, open room.  I was dressed in my usual U attire (sport coat, snap brim hat, etc), and I was just sitting there reading a book with my owlish pair of reading glasses (owlish in that they were round lenses/wire frame) and smoking my pipe.... all in a tremendously relaxed fashion.  Nothing more happened in this dream... but it was delightful to watch myself in this well lit, open room, just "being".  

PCS = 8.  In the dream, the flavors I could taste (yes, in the dream, I was "me" in the chair smoking my pipe, but also "me" observing from afar simultaneously) the beautiful flavors of the Three Star Blue pipe tobacco I sampled while in Chicago.  I still feel rather short-changed at my loss of an adventure in Des Moines.  Chicago was such a beautiful, wonderful experience.  I keep thinking about throwing in the towel.  I know I shouldn't do so.  But, it keeps coming into my thoughts.  

PipeTobacco    

Hmm

 

I have been gone for a while.  I have been just too damn busy for words.  There has been a veritable sh*tl**d of things going on.... occasionally good things, a lot of just treading water things where I am trying to keep from drowning in work, and a few unpleasant things.  So.... just a lot of the same stuff.... just intensified.... sort of like the difference between if a normal workweek and life is represented by a pebble and yet, I feel as if for the last ~8 weeks or so, my workweek and life is better represented by a gargantuan boulder. 

But, I do not want to try to rehash all that I have been doing and going through in this effort.  I am sure over the next few days, I will allude to some of the highlights.  

It was not until Sunday morning, that I had some semblance of self again.  I did not feel like a robot only doing tasks in order to keep the machines running and not cause a fatal error.  

Sunday morning, my wife and I spent the late morning watching "Soylent Green" which happens to be one of my favorite science fiction films of all time.  It is the vein of what folks now call "dystopian" fiction.  Edward G. Robinson was exceptional in this film, which happened to be his last work, as he died the same year the film was released, 1973. The link above is to the official trailer of this film.  My wife had never seen the film before.

I also had a little bit of additional time this morning, as my embryology class was not scheduled to meet.  So, this gave me enough time so I could hoof out a half marathon (13.1 miles; ~21km).  It feels so much more relaxing to be a bit ahead in my mileage rather than just meeting the minimum to hit 50 miles (~81 km) total by the end of the week.  

PCS - 9.  Ever since I found my missing sheep... my beloved Butz-Choquin Ultima Dublin pipe, I have been rather obsessed with it.  I have been keeping it in my coat or sport jacket pocket wherever I go.  I have even taken a few moments of video where I hold the pipe comfortably in my chompers so I can watch it, and imaging I am smoking it.  If I ever find a way to get to a good, old-fashioned pipe tobacco shop the next time I get to travel... I know I am going bring the Ultima.  I keep imagining myself just opening up the can of Three Star Blue I bought at Iwan Reis, and enjoying a bowlful in my backyard.  It is tempting, and I think about it every evening as I go to sleep at night.  Yet, I know it would lead to a torrent of excuses for me to do so again, and again. And we know where that would lead.

PipeTobacco 

Yes... I Agree

 

My friend who comments as Anvilcloud mentioned yesterday how I seem to have written an awful lot in a very short time yesterday.  And, I agree, and perhaps it was a bit too much.  Often when I feel pressure to get some thoughts OUT of my head, I will come here to write a rapid-fire, nearly free form post of thoughts I am trying to a) get OUT of my mind instead of ruminating on them, b) get a way to better "organize" my thoughts related to things that are going on or that I must do, or c) taking a brief break to "breathe" before I head back into some form of "professor" mode..... almost akin to a coffee break or a pipe break.  

The post I wrote yesterday, erupted onto the page in ~12 minutes, and I allowed myself one quick glance through to at least catch the MOST glaring of errors (although I likely missed many).  So, roughly 15 minutes.

* * * * * 

• I ran OUTSIDE this morning for the first time in a long while.  It was much nicer than running circles.  I am glad to be able to be transitioning back to outside again.  10 miles ran (~16km).
• I prayed through the rosary while running as is my norm, but I also listened to my Mass music station on Pandora as well.  Lately, I had been listening to various Masses (Capuchin and otherwise) from around the Lent and Easter Masses.  But, I felt more excited about music this morning.
• During and after the rosary, I thought a lot about my one kid whom I no longer write about here and the decisions and challenges this offspring of mine is going through.  Prickly like a cactus, though this individual is most of the time, I do want to try to guide and help even though the track record of good results lately is nearly nil.  I just want happiness for my kid who is struggling with poor choices and a resistance to communicate.  
• Also stuck in my head, after the rosary was concluded was more than a bit of regret about my lost pipe opportunity in Des Moines.  I am disappointed in myself that I was not better prepared for the adventure so that it could have happened.  In my mind, the "devil on my shoulder" keeps suggesting to me that since I missed that beautiful opportunity, I should instead make a trip down to an especially good tobacconist about an hour's drive (or a little more) from my home and splurge.. to  make up for the missed opportunity.  And, having found my beloved Butz-Choquin Dublin.... gave further fuel to the little red guy on my shoulder.  But, I know (or at least worry that I know) that if I were to do this "substitution" trip, I could easily envision in my mind ALL SORTS of reasons to make this trip a regular occurrence.... and it feels like a true, slippery slope.  
• And, even though I know the pipe is "bad" for me in terms of health goals, I also was having meander through my mind, the old adage I used to spout, and still to large extent believe, that for me the pipe is also "nourishing" to me in some fashion.  
• PCS = 8.5.... almost said 9, but I am pushing back a bit on the thoughts to try to keep the score a bit more at bay.

I didn't really make a "short" post today, although that was my goal.  It was just another "thought dump" to get thoughts out.

PipeTobacco

The Lost..... is Found

It is that time in the semester that things get even more busy than usual. Only a few weeks until the end of the semester and  of the primary academic year means that in addition to:

• regular teaching
• regular research
• regular exams
• regular service

There are a whole helluva lot of additional "add-ons" that permeate all that I have to do:

• preparing FINAL EXAMS which (at least in all my classes) are CUMULATIVE across the entiretly of the semester, much to student's chagrin.... but to their ultimate benefit in learning.  
• all sorts of "pomp-and-circumstance" sorts of events that I unfortunately "need" to attend.... because I have student researchers in damn near every category..... Honors Convocation, Fellowship Award Dinners, Multiple Campus Poster Sessions,  Special Guest Speakers from an annual biological colloquium, Honors College Awards Ceremonies, and of course Graduation itself.  

Plus of course, I have the usual things related to the end of all semesters (not just the one at the end of the regular academic year:

•  Research progress reports
• Animal use progress reports
• Accounting reports for grant funding usages
  
• AND.... in the midst of all this I have to mathematically compute grades, finish grading the sh*tl**d of papers I have to grade, 
• AND.... I have to get my SPRING CLASS (starts mid-May) up to snuff.
• AND... I have to put out an advertisement in our U's job listings for the undergraduate student worker positions I received some funding for a few weeks ago.
• AND.... probably more that I am not remembering at the moment, but will likely come back to bite me in the behind.... unless I remember it in a timely fashion.

So.... I am feeling a bit harried (not hairy.... although I am also that (or my wife refers to me as being rather "furry")).  

Easter was generally nice.  Mass, to me, was the highlight.  However, we also hosted as much family as were healthy and able to attend over for dinner.  My SIL is back in the hospital, and has been since a few days before Easter.... due to combined kidney/congestive heart fluid buildup in her body.She *might* be coming home today or tomorrow.  

My oldest daughter also had her birthday at Easter.  We had carrot cake for her cake.  

* * * * *

• Running is a conundrum at the moment.  I *KNOW* it is the only thing that is keeping me somewhat close to sane at the moment.  But, when the alarm goes off at 5:00am, I curse vehemently under my breath.  I actually feel a sense of hatred about running at the moment when the alarm goes off.  But I have NO OTHER OPTION to fit in my run currently.  If I do not get my miles in BEFORE 8:00am, I have no damn hope of getting in any miles these days, as I work like an indentured servant from that point on until I get home at increasingly later hours during this time.  And, without a working treadmill anymore, I cannot make up miles in the basement, nor is it light enough at night to run outside.  So, I force myself out of bed and curse and curse all the while as I get to the track.  And, the first three miles or so, are usually rather unpleasant, as I want to be back in bed and I continue to curse under my breath.  But, finally as I get to the higher mileage and I feel a bit more relaxed.... partially because my muscles have limbered up.... partially because I am relatively close to being finished... and partially because I know I will have accomplished the damn task for the day and am staying on track (Ha!  Pun was NOT intended, but had me grin.).
• After running, I feel more settled for the above reasons... and my stress abates a bit.  
• On Easter Sunday, I had a rather pleasant surprise as well.  I was roaming around the house placing candy filled plastic eggs in several "hiding spots" for several "little people" who were coming to our Easter Dinner.... when I opened our (seldomly used) front closet near the front door.  And.  I found a favorite pipe of mine that had been lost for perhaps roughly 2.5 years!!!!!  It was sitting on the main shelf in the closet!  It was a beautiful Butz-Choquin Ultima Dublin pipe.  It is a beautiful pipe!!!!  It also has been a wonderful smoking pipe!  It looks just like the image at the top of this post.  B-C pipes are French pipes, and I have always loved its artistic, graceful shape and coloring.  Usually I am not particularly fond of diamond shaped shanks, but for this pipe, it is a perfect fit, and the stem is broad and relatively thin, so it is tremendously comfortable between my chompers as well. 
• I last remember having the pipe perhaps ~2.5 years ago during one of the periods of time where I was carrying around a pipe in my various sport coats as a bit of a "pacifier" during a more pronounced period of cravings.   And, I remember having it and taking it out to my MIL's house  (this is of course, prior to her move to assisted living) which was ~45 minutes or so away,  to hold while I was talking with her. We were both having a glass of Diet Pepsi, when she suggested I "add a bit of flavor"…. which was a phrase my father-in-law often stated when I went to visit him…. to indicate his interest in adding a shot or two of whiskey or bourbon to our regular drinks.  I smiled at my MIL...  and complied with the suggestion.   She, though, (like my wife) is a virtual tee-teetotaler, so she did  not want any added "flavor" but I appreciated (and I think she did too), recalling the memory about my FIL.   When I eventually was on the way home, I stopped at a State Park that was close to where my MIL’s home and walked through the heavily wooded trails for perhaps an hour.  
• The next time I was wearing a sport coat, I looked around a bit (including all the pockets of my sport coats) for the Butz-Choquin.  I could not find it.  And, I did this on several different occasions over the course of a few months.  Since I never found it during all those times I searched, I grew convinced (and frustrated at myself) that I had lost it... most likely somewhere on one of the trails in the State Park.... thinking it must have fallen out of my pocket.  
• It makes me very happy to have found this pipe.  When I went to Des Moines on my unfortunately failed pipe adventure, I thought often about my Butz-Choquin and how I wish I would have been able to bring it to Des Moines.  
  

* * * * *  

Routine things:

• 10 miles this morning (~16 km)
• PCS = 8.5.... would be higher, but I don't even really have much time available to day-dream at the moment.  I am simply going from task-to-task, treading water.  

PipeTobacco

Nutrition

I cannot adequately express how exhausted I am.

Yesterday, several "crises" at the U occurred related to my electronic classroom (officially called an LMS.... learning management system) that damaged a test I had prepared for my students for later in the morning.  In this particular class, the students take part of the exam in a traditional, on paper format, but there is a smaller portion of the exam that is given through my LMS so that I can have students watch video footage and write about it. I was able to work with the LMS IT folks before class, and they helped figure out what was wrong.  Then in class while I was proctoring the paper portion of the exam, they sent me elaborate instructions on how to REPAIR the LMS portion.  So, it was a tense time.  

But, more to the point, when I stepped onto the U grounds at 8:45am yesterday, until I left the U grounds at 6:45pm, I was non-stop busy and occupied.... not only with my normal work (classes and research) but also a community presentation I had to give, a plethora of slow talking, needy students (even though I did not have scheduled office hours yesterday), a slow talking faculty member from the tutoring center who felt it was important to visit me because not many students are using her tutoring services. 

The "highlight" of my conversation with this tutoring center faculty member was that she was strongly suggesting that I take mandatory attendance in my courses and also make it mandatory that my students visit the tutoring center.  

I listened to her spiel, but in my mind, I was thinking, "Like hell I will do that, lady!" There is no way I COULD take attendance every session I meet with  my ~250 students.... nor would I want to!  These are college students, and I feel they have the right to choose whether or not to attend class.  And, I can also assure you that my classroom attendance hovers around 90-95% each and every session.  Students KNOW and understand that if miss my lecture, it WILL have a significant impact on their exam scores.  Now, every student may have an emergency of some sort where they MUST miss a class on rare occasion.  But, when I have a student who is chronically absent, I do know that these chronically absent students earn "F"s on their exams.  

After listening to her spiel, I let her know I had to run across campus to get to a presentation I was scheduled to deliver.  She yammered a bit more, and said that she wants to schedule a meeting with me to discuss this further.  I will meet with her, but it will not cause me to change my mind.  She is a 100%, tried-and-true "splitter" sort of individual. She relishes making EVERYTHING into infinitely smaller and smaller bits of minutia.  I find splitter personality types tend to be somewhat pushy and bossy and want to dictate to others how to do things.  

But, I can assure everyone.... I will not do what she suggests.  

When I arrived home from the U, my wife and I made dinner, and we were just sitting down to eat, when all hell broke loose again about the individual I cannot mention here.  It was ghastly.  And, the haranguing did not stop until around 1 am, when I had to disengage and go to bed.   It was horrible. And, all is still in limbo as well.

* * * * *

• I literally FORCED myself out of bed this morning.  I despised every step I took.  But, I got the last damn 10 miles in for the week.  I was in no mood to do anything.
• Today is Good Friday.  I have to read.  

PipeTobacco

Need to Be Away

 

I need to be away a bit from the rudeness in my Department for a while.  So, I came here in my "back-back" office to get away from the folks who have been hurtful for a while.  There is no real use in talking about their sh*tty actions.  It does not do any good.  So, I will move on:

There was an interesting news item that came across my phone's news feed today (via BBC).  It was about a 68 year old woman who paid another woman to carry a surrogacy pregnancy for her using the surrogate's egg and using sperm from the 68 year old woman's dead son.  So in effect, this woman paid a surrogate to incubate her grandchild.  This 68 year old woman also happens to be a famous actress on Spanish television named Ana Obergon.  Her son died at the age of 27 in 2020 due to cancer.  It was his last wish to have produced offspring. 

My first impression was that this was an incredibly special thing that Ana Obergon did on behalf of her son.  She is committed to raising the child as her granddaughter.  

Then, I also began to wonder about the child having to deal with having a deceased father and a "surrogate" mother who gave up any rights to contact/interact with her.  Added on that was the worry about the length of time her grandmother may remain alive.... and all of these items had me also feel sad for the granddaughter.

Overall, the story is interesting, but it does raise a number of issues of concern, so I am not fully sure where I stand on the issue now.    

* * * * * 

• Ran 10 miles this morning (~16 km).
• We had experienced VERY HEAVY thunderstorms and 1 inch (~2.5 cm) hail this morning and now in the early afternoon it is still very heavy rain.  By mid-morning, all the snow had melted (other than in the piles of snow in parking lots) due to the warm temperatures and the heavy rain.  We are expected to reach an unheard of high temperature for this time of year of 72 degrees (~22 C)!
• PCS = 9.  I have been wanting a pipe pretty strenuously since the damn bus escapade last week.  But, now, a significant part of that desire is due to the significantly hurt feelings I have due to the actions of a person in my Department.  It used to be that if my feelings were hurt, I would have a pipe and it would feel consoling and comforting.  
• My wife is going to a specialist today for consultation for a health issue related to her diabetes, but indirectly so.... so it is not an endocrinologist, but a podiatric specialist.  I hope it goes well.

PipeTobacco

Unpleasant Day

 

Today has been an unpleasant day.

• I felt "off" in all my classes.
• A Departmental frustration has reared back into view again.
• I am committed to participating in serving as Lector on Good Friday at our Parish at 1pm and now have also discovered I am supposed to participate in a 3pm Forum that was rescheduled for Good Friday back at the U.
• My SIL and my wife both have been going yesterday and today to various sorts of medical appointments, all of which are nebulous and stressful.
• I still have to write a complete exam still today for Thursday because the last time I taught this class occurred during COVID and when COVID started, I had to highly modify the exam in ways that are really not useful now.  And, the time I taught this course before COVID, I had used a different book the exam from that time period is unusable as well.

Other items:

• Ran 9.3 miles (~15 km).  Woke up late and did not have time to get more mileage in.
• PCS = 9.  Still frustrated at MY bus system failure for Des Moines.  I had been SO very much anticipating the rather freeing feeling of having a pipe there.
  
• Anvilcloud logically asked in my comments... why didn't I take an Uber or Lyft?  Well, three factors came into play... a) I *thought* I understood the Des Moines bus system, b) Uber/Lyft are rather pricey, and c) my damn phone is full, and when I *tried* to download the Uber app a few days before the trip as a backup, I did not have enough available space.... and figured I would be "ok".

PipeTobacco
 

Bust.

Sigh.

It was not to be. 

"The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." - modernized Robert Burns.  

Although it seems that line should appear somewhere also in Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men", I cannot recall if it does..... somehow I also associate the phrase with Steinbeck too.  It has been quite a while since I read "Of Mice and Men" so I cannot recall if one of the characters may have quoted Burns or not.  

My trip to Iowa was a bust as far as being able to indulge in a delightful bowlful of enticing tobacco leaf goes.  And, it was my own damn fault.  I am chagrined at myself for my own stupidity.  

I had it all neatly planned into my very hectic Des Moines schedule.  I had a block of a bit over two hours where I could stealthily be away from what I needed to do in Des Moines (other than eating, of course).  I had a bus plan all written down on how to ride the bus to the outskirts of Des Moines proper so I would then only have to hoof about 1/2 mile to the nirvana that awaited me in David's Fine Tobaccos.  

The bus system in Des Moines IS beautifully laid out.... for the day-to-day traveler of the system.  Each bus stop is identified by a number across the expanse of the city and suburban destinations.  The large number of buses are marked well.  But, I was not as aware as I needed to be of these nuances.  Outside of my hotel, I readily found a "Dart" System bus stop.  I was told it would be there by my perusal of the route map.  But, what I DID NOT realize is that there were actually FIVE different bus stops that were in the small block perimeter of my hotel.  I also did not realize how to identify a bus stop by its "number" either.  

I waited at the presumed bus stop for 20 minutes, then 30, then 35 minutes for the bus that went towards University Avenue that I needed.  Although a bunch of buses did appear, none of the ones that stopped at my stop were designated for that region.  And,  time was ticking.  I was already rather frustrated and I decided to walk a bit down the block to a small store and see if they could help.  The storekeep was a fellow who looked to be in his 40s, and he had a very heavy accent that sounded like may have been originally from Pakistan, because to my ear, his accent seemed similar to a couple of professors I know from the U who are from Pakistan.  Unfortunately, he had no advice to give, as he did not like to use the bus system. As I walked back out, another bus zoomed by, and I was cursing myself under my breath, presuming this was the University Avenue bus and I had missed it.  Fortunately, though, the signage on the back of the bus was for a different location.  

I looked around, and then saw out of the corner of my eye, another bus stop just a little ways away just around the corner of the block I was on.   I ran over to it, and saw another bus stop part way down that block.  I then realized I was lacking some damn pertinent details that I did not understand of the bus system.  I quickly hoofed back up to my hotel room and began again to look at the Dart website on my computer, to see if I could figure things out better..... quickly.  I had looked at the site on my phone while I was waiting earlier, but it seemed rather chaotic to navigate on my phone, and I had already gotten comfortable with how it worked on my computer.  

I finally figured out that I needed the stop that was just down the corner of the block on the other cross street away from the store I just visited.  I hurriedly hoofed back downstairs, and out the door, and got to the Dart stop just as the bus was pulling up!  I thought I had figured it out.  I jumped on and paid my fare and sat down.  

I looked outside as we moved down the streets for a bit.  The bus kept turning on a lot of different streets, which surprised me.  

Then it dawned on me.  I had gotten on the "right" bus, but it was going in the "wrong" direction.  I should have been at the other bus stop directly across the street from this one, so I would have gotten the bus going in the other direction. By this time, I had already eaten up one and a quarter hours of my allotted "pipe time".  I was (and still am) frustrated at myself.  

Even if I would have been ABLE to get there in the time remaining, I would have not had enough time to do anything accept probably get to the building itself before I had to turn around and high-tail it back.  My spirit felt rather broken as I reached up and pulled on the string of the bus.  After the driver stopped the bus, I got out, and went across the street at this unfamiliar area, and waited ~20 minutes for another bus of that route line to show up.... going in the opposite direction, and let it take me back to the hotel... so I could go back to the work I was here for.

I am aggravated at my own poor planing and my own stupidity.

* * * * * 

Ran - 10.1 miles (~16 km) this morning.  I felt quite stiff and achy from the air travel and the seating posture that the flight requires when you are packed in like sardines. 

PCS - 10.  Of course, this number reflects my failure on my journey.  I was so very excited about the possibility of visiting there and experiencing. I feel... aggravated and annoyed. (I had spent most of my air time getting to Des Moines lost in my imagination of how I would soon be tasting the pipe tobacco's indescribably beautiful flavors, feeling the smoke's tranquil and peaceful effects, getting to see my version of a "kid's candy store" all around me.  I was imagining peering at all the beautiful pipes, smelling the various tobaccos in jars, and chatting peaceably with those at the shop.)

I have to revise three exams this afternoon, now that I am done with lecturing for the day.  I have to get these revisions to my secretary today otherwise they may not be able get printed in time. 

PipeTobacco   

The "bust" in the image is of course of Hemingway.  

Hemingway, Steinbeck, and Faulkner.... three of my favorite authors whom I had always admired.  All born around the start of the 1900s.