“Even when given ‘more structured means of detecting drunkenness,’ doctors did a poor job of assessing sobriety. Many of the signposts people use (red eyes, slurred speech etc.) are unreliable, or only reliable at very high levels of intoxication. ‘A variety of professions that might be expected to show substantial skill assessing intoxication do not,’ concludes Steve Rubenzer, the study’s author.”
Ever have one of those days where you feel like you’re running around constantly and have no time to yourself, and yet you also feel like you’re getting absolutely nothing done?
That was today — a direct contrast to yesterday, when I was relaxed yet as productive as I have been in years — not even exaggerating: looked at the clock last night expecting it to say it was 7 pm or so and it was after midnight.
So I guess it evened out.
And I guess I didn’t go much further than the backyard to find today’s photo:
I got nothing for you today…was up late reading about lunatics and felons and got a messy apartment and a busy day to deal with this morning. So, until regular posting resumes later on today, here’s Something Good to start your day:
Pretty nice salad for a pretty hot night, and it also served the double purpose of getting rid of some stuff from the fridge that needed to be gotten rid of:
It tasted like a fairly close approximation of the salad I used to have a few times for lunch each month at Atria’s in PNC Park when I was working in Pittsburgh. And I have enough leftover for a side to whatever I end up bringing to school tomorrow for lunch.
Yeah, I’m pretty much geeking out about school starting, if you hadn’t noticed. Four months of dictating my own work days was about three months too many.
I’m teaching an online feature writing course this semester and, for a lot of people my age, and maybe even for people my typical students’ age, the may seem like a bit of a blow off. No scheduled classroom meetings, participation in online discussion boards and no teachers hounding you when you text in class. For a lot of people over the age of 25 (myself included up until about six or seven years ago), it just has that feel of being the kind of thing you sign up for after submitting a drawing sample to a matchbook cover.
But think about it this way: you do so many things on the Web, and some of those things are done so much more efficiently online than they are in person, so why not learning?
In any case, it’s kind of a big deal: very few colleges are heading into this school year without at least some online offerings, as I noted in this article I wrote for the Globe back in January. It’s one of the fastest growing corners of higher-ed, so I’m thrilled to have an opportunity to explore it.
I should note that my master’s degree was done on a limited-residency basis, and I’m a big believer in this type of learning for writing. After all, I believe the best way to learn how to write is to actually write, so the traditional classroom can sometimes fall short.
That said, I think I’ll always prefer a traditional classroom setting to both teach and learn, but I do think my students will get a lot out of this class. And it certainly won’t be easy — most of them will end up working hard; almost as hard as their instructor.
Because what I’m learning is that I actually have to prepare for this stuff — even more than I do for “regular” classes. Occasionally you can walk into a classroom, run a writing prompt, point out a few things in the repsonses and that week’s reading assignment, then get the students involved in a discussion and before you know it, your 50- or 75-minute class is over. It’s called winging it, and if any of you have never done it in your jobs, well, go ahead and cast the first stone.
That doesn’t work in an online class; each week I’ll be posting an “online lecture,” which is basically a document covering all the stuff I would hope to cover in a classroom (sample follows). Students discuss the lecture, as well as a weekly reading assignment and projects they’re working on, in online forums that I set up. They also workshop each others’ drafts, shoot questions at me and get feedback. I suspect in future semesters, if I were to teach this class online again, it would require slightly less prep, but this is going to be time consuming no matter how you look at it.
Not that I’m complaining — the great thing about teaching, online or off, while still working actively as a writer is it forces you to defend and explain what you do on a daily basis. It makes you consider how you have done things, almost out of instinct, and, in the process, sharpens those skills.
In any case, I’ll be posting lectures for my class on Mondays (the first one went up yesterday), and to give non-students a feel (or if anyone is interested in my views on feature writing), I’ll be posting some of the lectures a day or three after they’re available to my students. It won’t be the same as taking the class — you won’t have access to the discussion boards, and the lectures are really just a starting point for the real learning, which (should) take place on the boards.
And, with 25 students in this class alone, there’s no way I’m going to offer to critique your work if you decide to play along at home. But the lectures are content o keep you occupied while I’m off teaching and preparing to teach, and the focus on nonfiction feature writing may prove interesting reading to two or three of the 10 or 12 of you still reading. The top portion of this intro lecture, at the very least, may answer some questions on how online learning works.
So here’s lecture number one (of 15 I’ll be prepping between now and December):
Communications 399-W02: Feature Writing
Lecture 1: Course Introduction & Curiosity
Week of August 30, 2010
Welcome to Communications 399-W02: Feature Writing!
This is a Web-based course, and this is the first of 15 online “lectures” I’ll be delivering through Blackboard this semester. If you have not done so already, please download the syllabus from Blackboard and read it CAREFULLY. Most of your questions on how you’ll receive content and submit work are answered in the syllabus.
…kind of sucked because it was hot and hilly and the longest run I had done for quite some time. In fact, it was the longest half marathon I have ever run, and there have been quite a few long ones in terms of times (my personal record is 2:15, this was a sitcome and change longer than that).
But it was for a good cause and I appreciate those of you who donated to support Children’s Hospital at Dartmouth. I also got to see author Jodi Piccoult (who lives in Hanover, N.H. and led the 5k charity walk) and see a world record broken (most number of people in super hero costumes gathered in one place), so the day wasn’t a total loss.
Here’s what the course looked like, with elevation tables (also note that it covered miles in both New Hampshire and Vermont, making it my first two-state race):
Today’s Boston Globe editorial urging Craigslist to give up its adult services ads made me queasy on a couple of different levels.
First, it sort of feels like sour grapes: it’s no secret that Craigslist has played a huge role in the downfall of newspapers by decimating the classified ad revenue; at many papers, that revenue stream would be all gone were it not for the odd, monopoly-like arrangement between newspapers and governments that allow papers of record to have the exclusive right to publish public notices.
Beyond that, however, is a bigger issue: I’m never comfortable when an organization that depends on the First Amendment’s rights of free speech challenges, attacks, or even questions the free speech rights of another. Take away your feelings on prostitution and whether or not Craigslist is living up to its public service mission by keeping profits from the adult services ads instead of donating them to charity (last I checked CL is a private company and capitalism remained legal), and this is nothing more than a case about what people have the right to post on their own Web sites.
Free speech cannot protect you from being a douche bag and it cannot force you to make the right choices or say the right things. On the contrary, one of the important benefits of free speech is knowing what kind of ideas are out there, even if the ideas are something we find offensive. The system of illegal prostitution, as it is set up in this country, exploits women, allows disease and addiction to run unchecked and causes a whole host of problems. I’m not going to argue that; but I’m not going to try to deny it exists and continues to flourish in Boston and cities around the country, either.
Even the Globe acknowledges the site has a policy to have lawyers “vet every adult ad before it goes up,” and every good J-School grad knows you can’t prevent speech, only limit it. If Craigslist is prevented from posting such ads, those ads will end up on some other site. That could very well be a site which may not employ lawyers and may look the other way when ads promising underage prostitutes (or worse) are posted.
I don’t have a problem with people opposing the CL decision to run these ads — indeed, that’s the very discourse made possible by free speech. But an editorial about free speech that doesn’t acknowledge the concept of free speech — or even note that free speech carries great responsibility — just didn’t sit well with me on a Tuesday morning.
Ever since I wrote about him for Boston Magazine 2+ years ago, I feel like I have become a bit of an archivist for Gary Zerola. It’s hard for me to recall off the top of my head a more polarizing figure that I have personally had a chance to write about — whether people love him or hate him, they’re always willing to forward info about him.
(Personally, I’m still waiting to hear about what happened with Gary’s book deal, but he never really was into returning my calls and the number I had for him was disconnected long ago. In any case, if you see him, tell him I’m available for any ghost writing gigs he wants to throw my way).
Here’s the latest Gary dump, including some videos plugging his law firm and some photos, which follow the videos (the videos were found by a Gary watcher who pointed out that Tracey O’Neil linked to them from her YouTube page; O’Neil testified in Gary’s defense in the first of two trials in 2008).
But, perhaps most interesting, is that he has not one, but two videos on sex crimes. In the first one on sex crime defense, he tells potential clients “I have successfully defended clients when charged with various different kinds of sex crimes…In defending clients that have been charged with this nature of a crime, I engage and employ in various different types of professionals in aiding in the defense of my clients.”
A proofreader/grammar doctor for his copy writer was not, apparently, one of those professionals. Wasn’t this guy once a hot shot reporter for Suffolk University’s student newspaper?
In the second, on registering as a sex offender in Boston (which, for the record, Zerola never had to personally do), he says “If you’re being investigated for a sex crime, or you’re being charged with a sex crime, or you have an administrative hearing before the sex offender registry board, contact me immediately.”
I’d say something, but it’s almost too easy. During his trial, Gary mentioned that he “worked hard” and “played hard.” I’m not sure when the following photos were taken, but they seem to offer the right contrast from the hard-working Gary shown in the videos:
When I was in college I shared a two bedroom apartment with three others guys. Our monthly rent worked out to $117.50 each, yet we were perpetually short of money; so short, in fact, that we didn’t have a phone for more than a year (this is 1993-94, long before anyone besides doctors, stock brokers and Hollywood producers had cell phones).
Dinner was often whatever we could afford after returning beer bottles or whatever we could “borrow” from the convenience store where two of my roommates worked. Once in awhile someone would have a windfall and we’d do actual grocery shopping (I remember lobsters after someone hit on a scratch ticket for $50 or $100). And in slightly-less-flush times, I remember the occasional slice from Antonio’s being procured with change from the couch (which we had purchased for $15):
Guacamole is pretty simple stuff — the only real mystifying thing is why anyone would buy prepackaged guacamole when it takes all of five minutes to throw together a fresh batch. And it’s versatile as well — while it’s a natural for chips, I also mix it with brown rice, put a little on burgers and sandwiches instead of mayo (try it on your next BLT and see if you ever want to go back to the standard version) or slather it on grilled fish.
Or, as I did this morning, I mixed it with a scrambled egg and put it all on a tortilla as a much-needed shot of protein (from the eggs) for my aching muscles after yesterday’s half marathon.
The trick is making the guacamole and making it well. It’s one of those foods that I would suggest if you don’t like it, you haven’t had good or properly prepared guacamole. My recipe always elicits oohs and aahs and while I’m hesitant to share it (and how simple it is) so I can continue to win friends and impress people, here goes…
You can adjust the size of the batch pretty easily by doubling or cutting. The measurements are loose guidelines — I tend to just eyeball everything and adjust according to the size of my fruits and veggies (and avocados, like tomatoes, are vegetables). This is a particularly good time of year, for example, to boost the amount of tomatoes you use since they’re so damn good and fresh.
The three-avocado batch described below makes about two cups. For every three, ripe avocados, diced, you need….
* juice of one lime
* two small small tomatoes, seeded and diced (Romas are fine when tomatoes are not in season)
* 1/2 small red onion, diced
* 1 clove of garlic
* 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
* 1/2 teaspoon cumin
* 1/2 teaspoon cayenne
* i tablespoon chopped, fresh cilantro
Immediately toss the avocados with the lime juice to prevent oxidization. Fold in the onion and tomatoes. The trick with the garlic is to combine it with the salt into a paste by using the flat edge of a knife on your board. It makes a big difference in distributing the flavor and not having either the garlic or the salt overpower the batch.
Mix in the spices, which are the secret weapon in this recipe. Adjust for taste — the cayenne, in particular, shouldn’t dominate the dish but should instead hang out in the background and accent the other flavors. Fold in the cilantro in just before serving — the fresher the better.
Store in an airtight container. And again, this is a guideline — some left over, grilled corn, some black beans or whatever else you like can all be tossed into the mix to amp up the flavor and, ideally, get rid of stuff hanging out in your fridge.
While the avocados might start to lose some of their brightness within several hours, this will keep for a day or two. I made some Saturday night and had it with brown rice as a side to the sweet potato burrito I was having to carbo-load pre-run. This morning it still tasted fine, if not better than it had Saturday. Everybody, as they say, had a chance to get to know one another in the bowl.
There was a part of me that was really hoping this year’s Red Sox would pull it together. The team that faced long odds and unprecedented injuries, the team that made the pink hat brigade and the bandwagon douche bags forget that this is a baseball town and turn their attention to the Celtics and UFC fighting, appealed to me. Partly because of friends with season tickets who have been traveling a lot, I’ve been to more games this year than any other since 2006 (the last time, incidentally, the Red Sox failed to make the playoffs).
It will be nice if the Sox slip into the postseason, unexpected and unannounced, if they put the scalpers back in business for the few weeks left before football season starts for real and — I shudder to say this — force pink hatters to once again ask “What’s an infield fly rule?”
At the very least, it’s been fun to root for an underdog for the first time in what seems like ages, even if that underdog is only down and out because of the aforementioned injuries (it’s getting tragic here in Boston — with the Celtics loss in the NBA finals earlier this summer, we have people in this town who were born in 2008 and don’t know what it’s like to see a championship parade). I’ve also been able to spend more than a few decent days and nights at Fenway this season without worrying that the tickets had cost way more than I should be spending on three hours of entertainment.
And whether the Globe is right or not in all but declaring the Red Sox dead in this morning’s editions, there’s still at least a month-plus left in my baseball season. With a regular season-ending series against the Yankees slated for October 1-3, I’m not inclined to bust out the “wait ’till next year” cliche until October 4 (at the earliest).
I don’t get to teach freshman writing this year, and I am, surprisingly, kind of sad about it. When I first started teaching at Bridgewater I was hired to teach a class on the journalistic essay and reluctantly agreed to pick up some sections of Writing I and Writing II, which students typically take in the fall and spring semesters of their freshman year, to justify the drive down there 2-3 times per week.
I’m sad about it because teaching Writing I and Writing II was fulfilling and fun — if you ever need a dose of contagious optimism, hang out with people at the front end of their college careers. It was also a good challenge: journalistic essay was a class typically populated with English majors who presumably liked to write. It’s a bit of an ego boost if you get the accounting major who doesn’t like writing and doesn’t quite understand why he has to take two semesters worth of it excited about writing, if only for a semester.
My very loose philosophy for teaching the two classes is that the fall semester would be spent breaking students of bad habits and phony rules they had drilled into them in high school, so that by the spring semester they’d be ready to learn how to write an actual, argumentative, college essay (I accented argumentative because standardized high school testing in Massachusetts and other states seems to discourage students from having a point of view on, well, anything. Ever.)
I can’t emphasize how big of a gift this is (as I suspect and hope that someday soon I will once again teach freshman writing). I have had to defend my refusal to enforce all of these at least once per semester over the past three years, with challenges being issued on some more than others (high school English teachers seem to especially freak out when a student starts a sentence with the word “and.” That sucks and strict enforcement of that and other rules makes for tepid writing, but, as Freeman notes, “one theory is that teachers ban the and opening for kids of Tooth Fairy age so they can’t just string together a series of ‘and then’ sentences, thus planting the idea that it’s forbidden”).
But now I have legitimate proof that I know what I’m talking about (and proof that it was perfectly okay for me to start that sentence with the word “but”).
I know a lot of talented, driven and bright high school English teachers. And I know some of them are handcuffed by the emphasis placed on standardized test scores. But I also know a lot of high school English teachers (or have heard about a lot of high school English teachers through my students) who would do well to review these un-rules.
Incidentally, and perhaps coincidentally, the students who quote the rules from forced memorization are often the ones who tell me their high school writing teachers told them they were “hopeless as a writer” or words to that affect (I once had a student swear on his mother soul that his 11th grade English teacher — who must have been miserable despite tenure — told him he “sucked at writing” and that he should “avoid writing whenever possible”). They’re usually not bad writers and can actually be good writers if given a semester to build their confidence.
Yet we wonder why kids don’t like to read or write.
I guess I just feel we’d all be a little bit better off if we spent less time teaching students rules and more time teaching them how to actually write.
