Scary School Day . . .

Not the most impressive day of virtual school for me: while most of my students managed to give speeches in Public Speaking, one kid had to do his with his camera off-- it was blocked-- and so I told him "Pretend you're on the radio!"-- which dated me considerably-- I probably should have said, "Pretend you're on a podcast!"-- but whatever-- and then ten minutes into the second period, my school-issued device took control of itself and turned off the cursor and any sort of track-pad control-- but I could use the touch screen, which turned into a comical sequence of me touching windows and tabs and essentially screwing up the entire Teams meeting-- then the computer decided it needed an update and shut itself down-- I hope no parents heard me cursing it out-- but I was able to boot up the meeting on my iMac-- though Teams has gotten markedly slower since the pandemic-- which is weird and dumb-- and it really slows to a crawl if you share your screen-- so for my final period, instead of doing my slideshow lecture (with loads of musical and artistic examples!) about Modernism and Post-Modernism and then giving the kids a digital quiz, I had the kids do a goofy and barely educational group project that they could present next class . . . I really hope they fix our building soon-- for the sake of the children and the sake of me (and the sake of my podcast-- it's the last thing I feel like doing after a day of talking to a screen).

Suits Don't Suit Me


Several people have recommended the show Suits to me, so my wife and I gave it a shot but I couldn't make it through the pilot-- too many slick-talking good-looking people in silly scenes like the one I posted-- when Mike Ross tells Harvey Specter about his eidetic memory: 

"I like to read and once I read something I understand it, and once I understand it I never forget it"

yuck, how annoying and boring-- and I'll bet that's going to help out in a lot of clutch plot situations-- not that I'm ever going to find out . . . how about a character that says something a little more realistic: 

"I like to read but most of the time while I'm reading something, I fall fast asleep, but sometimes I stay awake and make it through a few pages and then I probably understand 30 percent, forget 30 percent, and misunderstand 30 percent . . . and what happens to the other ten percent? if you look up your ass, you'll find out."

Fuck Driving

My wife and I don't drive much-- we both work close to where we live; we bought a house in a walking town; and we hate being in the car . . . but the past few days have given us a taste of what many Americans do on a daily basis-- my wife drove out to Muhlenberg and back on Thursday evening, so Ian could see his friends and go to some Halloween parties with his girlfriend (apparently kids now wear a different costume for each party . . . I'll try to post some pics, but Alex and his girlfriend were Elvis and Priscilla and then characters from Ratatouille and Ian and Layla were a deer and a hunter, two superheroes, and then Shaggy and Scooby . . . absurd) and then on Friday, Cat and I drove out past Trenton to go to an Italian place for my brother's birthday-- it took an hour to get there-- and then we drove Ian back to school on Saturday (with Layla) and we all did some parent's weekend stuff-- saw some football-- going to a Muhlenberg football game is very low key-- and we watched some Sex Education style a capella singing and then we went to a really good restaurant (Union and Fitch) with Layla and Ian for dinner and then they went out and Cat and I crashed at the Holiday Inn, then I took Ian for an x-ray on his weird ankle injury-- no information, he needs an MRI-- and then we drove the hour-plus home . . . way too much fucking driving, I hate being in the car, it stresses me out, makes me sick--I have to drive and chew gum-- and when I get out my knees and hips hurt . . . but I don't even have to do my twelve-minute commute this week because I'm on virtual school because of the water main break in my high school, so I won't have to drive anywhere this week, which will be wonderful.

Back to Not Normal

East Brunswick High School is going to be virtual all next week-- apparently, fixing the water main break is going to be complicated-- rumor has it the pipe is eight feet underground and there may be an old oil tank involved as well . . . but all this is hearsay, the main thing is that we're going to try to do this virtual school thing again, which is annoying-- and this makes me wonder what would have happened twenty years ago . . . would they have crammed us into the middle school or something? or would we have had to make up the days in the summer? who knows-- but this is the best alternative to that stuff, though I hate staring at a screen all day.

We're in the Shit Again

Apparently, a shit pipe broke in our rapidly decaying high school, flooding the 1500 hall with sewage, so we're enduring the inanity of virtual instruction today (and perhaps tomorrow) because we can't go into the building . . . and I definitely have PTSD from the bonging sounds of people entering the Teams meeting; I've completely forgotten how to share my screen, run break-out rooms, and generally teach online; and there's a dude in my neighbor's yard with a gas-powered leaf blower making it impossible to hear anything-- the only up side is we get to do parent/teacher conferences on the phone, and not in the building.

Our Hero: Pickleball

A priest, a bunch of med students, some frat guys, the requisite old dudes and ladies of various races and ethnicities, and a guy with a mullet walk onto a pickleball court . . . and everyone gets along and plays pickleball-- this sport may just save America from polarization, tribalism, fake news, misinformation, income inequality, obesity, and reality TV.

A Basketball Pickle

I raced around like a lunatic, badly stubbing my toe in the process, trying to get to 6:30 AM basketball on time this morning . . . and then we couldn't get the hoops to descend-- the internet was out and apparently the internet is required to send the signal to the motor which lowers the baskets (although we learned-- far too late-- that there is a back-up switch in the equipment closet) but the morning wasn't a total loss-- Jeff and I impressed two willing basketball players into a pickleball match and we got some exercise in that manner and now I'm stuck in class forever-- it's a half-day so there's no lunch and I teach the first three periods, which amounts to being in a room with teenagers from 7:50 AM until 11:32 AM so I'm hangry and tired and hating whoever designed this stupid block schedule . . . and I have to be back at school at 5 PM for three hours of parent/teacher conferences-- which should be abolished at the high school level-- so I can't wait until I retire, because I will still show up for AM sports, and then head home to drink coffee on the porch.

We Defy Augury Episode Fifty!

The universe did NOT want me to finish the fiftieth episode of We Defy Augury: I had to re-record audio because an unshielded XLR cable allowed electromagnetic radiation to produce an unbearable hum and then a bunch of inexplicable five-second "holes" appeared in this audio when I was nearly done mixing things down, so I had to patch in little bits and pieces of my voice-- I was also a bit ambitious and wove in audio clips and clips of me playing the guitar-- and it was hard to record simultaneous vocal audio and guitar audio . . . basically, this one was a nightmare but I patiently pieced it together and I think it turned out pretty well, despite all the weird obstacles . . . the episode is called "Let's Talk About Celine Dion: Does Your Taste Stand on Solid Ground?" and my thoughts and ruminations are (loosely) based on Carl Wilson's music criticism masterpiece Let's Talk About Love: Why Other People Have Such Bad Taste . . . and there are plenty of special guests: Celine Dion, Huey Lewis and the News, New Found Glory, Robert Johnson, Greensky Bluegrass, The Easy Star All Stars, Bas Gaakeer & Mireille Bittar, Joey Satriani, David Berman, Pavement, Beavis and Butthead, David St. Hubbins, Nigel Tufnel, greasetruck, and Pythagoras.

Both Might Be True

 Either I'm getting older or wedding PA systems are getting louder.

The Early Bird Fixes the Audio Glitch

Quite a Friday-- I awoke very early and solved an audio mystery before 6:30 AM basketball-- apparently the XLR cable I was using to record my podcast was NOT shielded and that's where the annoying hum was coming from-- I must have switched cords when I cleaned up greasetruck studios; then Friday morning basketball was physical and chaotic-- one guy got a black eye and I found myself crawling on the ground for a rebound and intercepting a number of full court baseball style fast-break passes-- I'm too old for that shit-- and then happy hour at the Grove was also packed and chaotic, everyone wanted to come out and rehash the chaos and the consequences of the teacher shortage on the English Department-- and now it's seven PM and heading up to bed.

English Department Chaos

My room was something of a chaotic mess Monday morning, but that's nothing compared to the current state of the English department-- last week, a youngish English teacher with young kids at home tripped and fell going down the weird flight of three steps in the Media Center (a.k.a. library) and she shattered her elbow on her dominant hand and did some ligament damage as well-- and she was teaching an extra class (so six periods) and she'll be out for 4-6 months so we're going to have to cover her classes-- but the bulk of the department is already teaching six classes so it's going to be a mad scramble . . . and another teacher announced she's pregnant and will be leaving in May, so that will be more classes to cover-- they really need to hire more teachers but I think there might be a shortage (or a shortage of competent teachers) so interesting times lie ahead.

I'll Have to Curb the Cussin'


The writer's strike is over and Jimmy Fallon made a joke about his studio being rented out as a pickleball court-- and it does seem like everyone is playing pickleball everywhere right now . . . today I received a text from my cousin, who is a fully ordained Catholic priest . . . and also apparently a 3.5+ looking for some games with me and my brother . . . I'm going to have to watch my language!

Happy Monday!

 


This is what the window in my classroom looked like when I walked in Monday morning . . . what debauchery happened over the weekend?

I Did NOT Watch the Giants Lose . . .

I slept from 8:55 PM last night until 5:56 AM this morning-- nine hours straight . . . no waking up to pee in the middle of the night-- and that seems to be the right amount because I felt great today and did not need to take a nap when I got home from school.

My Wife Goes Cruising For Vengeance


Today was "Garage Sale Day" in Highland Park and my wife wanted nothing to do with it-- we had some junk in the storage area but she just wanted to put it out to the curb and let people have it for free, but I insisted on setting up a few tables and I said I would stay out there for a bit and run the sale and then I would put out a "Take What You Like, Pay What You Can" box . . . and as my wife predicted, my tolerance for sitting outside minding the sale did not last very long-- I would make a terrible shopkeeper-- and after 30 minutes I came inside and told her I was putting a box outside and heading to the gym; she laughed at my capriciousness but an hour later, when I got back from the gym, I noticed that our outdoor chairs were missing-- the ones that sit beside the little table in front of the house-- one of the chairs had been pulled out as a stand for the "Pay What You Can" box but the other chair was hidden behind the ping-pong table (and obviously not for sale) and when I told Catherine this she was very pissed off because she really liked those chairs (which she got for free years ago-- someone was giving them away-- with a matching table) and she laid into me for not staying outside and minding the sale so I went to the Ring camera and figured out who took the chairs-- it was an Asian lady driving a white Lexus . . . it was hysterical, you could see her snooping around behind the ping-pong table and grabbing the other chair-- and I said to my wife, "If you're so pissed off, go for a ride and maybe you'll find the lady" and she told me that was stupid and she had a lot of work to do-- but then five minutes later she got into the car and went cruising for venegance, she set off in the same direction as the Lexus-- which our neighbor's told us had NY plates-- and lo and behold! miracle of all miracles!-- she spotted the white Lexus with NY plates on Woodbridge Avenue and confronted the lady-- who apologized and gave the chairs back (and she didn't even put anything in the box!) and then Catherine returned triumphant, and out neighbor John pronounced her a neighborhood hero, AND I ended up making nearly fifty bucks in the "Pay What You Can" box . . . which really should have been a metal can.

Three Firsts for Dave

Two new things for me today:

1) I washed a number of filthy baseball caps in the dishwasher . . . top rack, with a knee brace as well-- then I dried the hats with our big floor fan-- and now I've got some very clean hats . . .

2) I dressed like the lion from The Wizard of Oz for my cousin's one-year-old birthday party-- and though my costume was quite minimalist: brown shirt, shoes, and pants; some whiskers painted on my face; and a rather realistic tail my wife made from an old towel-- it didn't matter because the other adults really went all out with their costumes to complete Dorothy's gang so I looked just fine . . . 

3) while we were at the party-- which was very loud-- my brother and I watched Rutgers come back from an 18-point deficit to defeat Michigan State and Rutgers did a kicking play that I've never seen work this way . . . the kicker "sky-kicked" the ball and the Michigan player let it bounce before he tried to catch it and by the time the ball came down a Rutgers player was already there-- the Rutgers kid collided with the Michigan State player and just grabbed the ball from him . . . hello!

Friday Pickleball Plus

A long week was lengthened to epic proportions by a pickleball match, the longest, most epic pickleball match I've ever played . . . instead of heading straight to happy hour, Catherine and I drove over to Castleton Park yesterday afternoon and played some fun games with some of the youngsters that are now playing there, but then Ryan Cheng and his girlfriend shows up-- Ryan played tennis for Yale and he's 24 and his girlfriend is also a tennis player and she's 22 and they are both obsessed with pickleball now, so I played one last match with them and Vanessa-- another college athlete, a basketball player-- and it was 7-7 for twenty minutes or so, and the game must have taken forty minutes-- Hanna and I lost to a couple of rocket-speed overheads from Ryan but it was a really fun game and pickleball is a wonderful sport because old people can actually compete with young people and then Catherine and I couldn't really get back to Highland Park, because unbeknownst to us, it was homecoming and the traffic was all fucked up, so it was easier to go through New Brunswick-- we stopped at Tavern-on-George and it was getting cold outside so we were relegated to the newly renovated basement because there was some alumni party upstairs, where we ate some sliders and had some beers . . . and I definitely smelled bad but no one seemed to notice down there and the other thing to remember about homecoming is that people from all over the state come into town, driving their giant fucking pick-up-trucks and SUVs and Suburbans and Yukons and Expeditions and these behemoths don't fit in parking garages or city parking spaces-- these cars should be outlawed in urban zones-- we saw several parking atrocities in the deck, including a giant white pickup wedging itself between two cars, scraping the side of the car on the passenger side-- mayhem.

The Future's So Dark I Gotta Wear Night Vision Goggles

I guess I should remark on the pall-- on the looming sense of dread-- that's been hanging over my town and my school; both have a sizeable Jewish population and our neighbors have children living in and visiting Israel (including one that has been called up to serve) and there are folks we know at school that are contemplating heading over to serve in the Israeli reserve forces . . . anyway, Terry and I spent a period in the English office drawing maps on the whiteboard and talking through the strategies and intentions of both Hamas and Israel and it seems, from any logical point of view (which might not be the right way to think about it, because Hamas is a fanatically religious organization with a mission wit wipe Isreal off the map) that the suicidal Hamas terrorist attack is to obviously bait Israel into decimating the Gaza Strip, causing an incredible humanitarian disaster . . . which will gain Palestinians empathy on the world stage? who the fuck knows . . . but it's going to be awful and it seems that this war and the war in Ukraine and Chinese incursions into Taiwan and their repression of the Uyghur region and the loss of the United States as a unilateral police force for the world might add up to massive warfare, tragedy, and disaster . . . coming soon to a theater near you.

Community Hero or Town Vandal?

My brother, Ann, Craig, and I were supposed to play pickleball at the new courts by my house this evening, but Ann called and said the courts were closed-- the gates were locked with zip ties and some yellow tape-- which was weird because they had been open all week and nothing was under construction-- so I grabbed my wire-cutter pliers and headed down there and cut the zip tie on one of the gates (and Ann said she thought she'd never say this, but I was now her "hero") and we went in and started playing and within twenty minutes the courts were full and when the ranger drove by he either didn't know that the courts were closed and we had all broken in or he didn't want to try to oust twenty people off the courts . . . but anyway, my minor vandalism made a lot of folks in the community very happy, as it was a perfect night for pickleball.

Lurking Lady with a Camera

When I arrived back at my house from walking the dog this afternoon, a lady was lurking about, wielding a camera, but I didn't think much of this-- maybe she wanted to take some pictures of my wife's lovely . . . but autumnally decaying garden?-- and then the lady worked up the courage to talk to me and it turns out that she was raised in our house until she moved out of it in 1987 . . . she's forty now and has a couple of kids and lives in Rhode Island-- which she says is quite a bit like Jersey, although people from Rhode Island don't like to hear that-- and she nostalgically remembers her time in Highland Park and claims it is a town like no other-- and she was so sweet that I invited her in to see all the work that has been done to the house since she moved away . .  and then my wife came home from giving blood, and a couple of the neighbors were out and we all congregated in our driveway and went over the history of the neighborhood as we knew it . . . and it makes me wonder what's going on inside the house where I grew up-- but I doubt I'll lurk around my old house with a camera, because I'm not an innocuous-looking middle-aged lady, I'm a sketchy-looking middle-aged man (and I was particularly decrepit looking this afternoon, as I had to dress like a particular student today-- and she had to dress like me-- so I was wearing gray sweatpants and a Pink Floyd shirt and a zip-up hoodie . . . and this student did a nice job of dressing like me: cargo pants, golf shirt, thick black-rimmed glasses).

Kids . . . Who Knows What They're Up To?

My students are not watching Yellowjackets, nor have they seen The Wilds or Atlanta or Community or Rick and Morty or Sex Education . . . they tend more towards The Gilmore Girls and Grey's Anatomy-- which is seriously fucked up-- and while I rarely get music recommendations from them (for obvious reasons) a kid in my "Music and the Arts" senior English class-- after I mentioned my love for King Tubby-- told me to check out "Dub Side of the Moon" and "Ziggy Stardub," and while you might think these song-for-song reggae versions of classic albums by the Easy Star All-Stars sound like novelty music, I think they actually might have legs-- I played out both these original albums when I was young and so though I love them, I can't really enjoy them any longer . . . but I think the reggae versions might breathe some new life into these old songs-- and I just started listening to Radiodread, which transmogrifies the album "OK Computer" into reggae and it's a lot of fun.

Potpourri

Nothing profound going down, but a few things to report:

1) The Ugly Dumpling is a great BYOB place to go with a large party of people-- fourteen of us ate there last night and it only took twenty minutes for them to seat us and it was 45 bucks a couple for a large quantity of food . . . and it's quite good (although not quite as good as Shanghai Dumpling, but that place is tiny)

2) though the Donaldson Park pickleball courts are open, I went to Castleton this morning and it was very breezy-- this was the first time I played in serious wind, and it's a different game-- it's hard to execute spinning drop shots and you have to put a bunch of topspin on your serve to keep it in play . . . but we still had a lot of fun;

3) Alex borrowed the van yesterday to go grocery shopping for his sick girlfriend and-- as is the custom in our house-- he left it on E and I thought I might run out of gas when I got stuck in road construction traffic on Easton avenue;

4) the Giants almost made it a game against the Dolphins, but not quite . . . this season is a bust-- and the Dolphins' offense is insane-- I've never seen more explosive running plays with so much motion and deception in the backfield . . . when the Giants defensive coordinator's wife asked him if he was sleeping okay this week-- while preparing for the game, Martindale said to her, "Yeah, I’m sleeping like a baby: every two hours, I wake up and cry and go to the bathroom, and try to go back and get some more sleep."

COVID: Fully Recovered . . .

Last night was my first night out on the town since I had COVID-- my sense of smell has returned; my outside shot was on at 6:30 AM basketball; I taught three classes; went home and took a nap, and then Catherine and I walked into New Brunswick for martinis at Clydz and then the 7 PM show at the Stress Factory . . . we were there to see T. J. Miller-- Erlich Bachman from Silicon Valley-- but the show turned out to be weirder and more eclectic than we expected; the opening acts were two international comedians that Miller had been touring with in Europe and they were very funny-- George Zacharopoulos is a Greek guy with a bizarre British/Greek accent and André de Freitas is an accomplished stand-up hailing from Portugal-- and it turned out there were a few Portuguese people in the audience, so that got interesting-- and by the time T. J. Miller got out there, there the crowd was fairly raucous and he sort of egged them on-- especially by playing on the whole idea of "Jersey" as it's own weird country-- he was almost baiting the crowd into being loud and obnoxious and then he'd heckle them back-- and he brought up a young kid on stage who yelled "Sing it!" during one of his bits-- the kid's voice sounded like he was a forty-year-old chain smoking truck driver but he was actually a fresh-faced 21 year-old . . . and so T. J. Miller tortured him for a bit and the kid was a very good sport about it and then they did a shot together at the end of the show . . . anyway, it was a LONG walk back to Highland Park, my legs were shot but it was certainly a banner return to work, athletics, and society at large (and they should make the fried chicken sandwich at Clydz at the other two restaurants they own-- Taven on George and the Olive Branch, because it's that good!)

Mrs. Price Says: "Please Stand So Close to Me"

I made the new episode of my podcast, "Please Stand So Close to Me: Homework Was Never Quite Like This" in one day-- I read the book Saturday night, in a COVID delirium and then pumped out the entire episode yesterday . . . I had to stay home from work for COVID protocol but I was feeling better . . . anyway, I consider this quite a feat of podcasting, but I had plenty of thoughts (loosely) based on Catherine Chidgey's psychological thriller Pet and I worked in some special guests, including The Police, Van Halen, and The Plastics.

Delayed Reaction Dave in a Delayed Reaction Olfactory Daze

At work, my colleagues sometimes refer to me as "Delayed Reaction Dave" because I don't process things quickly and I rarely see the future ramifications of new logistical, curricular, or contractual changes . . . so while everyone in the department is getting all worked up, because they CAN see the problems in the foreseeable future, I'll be like: "What's the big deal?" . . . but they know I'm going to get all pissed off later on, when the change actually takes effect-- for example, the new 82 minute periods . . . they are abominable and WAY too long, but several years ago when we discussed the hypothetical new schedule I was like, "that sounds fine, whatever . . ." and the same with teaching six periods and four preps-- it sounded fine in theory, last year when I agreed to do it, but now that I'm doing it, I'm complaining a lot and like "never again"-- so it seems I'm the same way with COVID . . . it took me way too long to actually contract it, and now that I've recovered, I've lost my sense of smell . . . and this seems utterly insane-- I've lost twenty percent of my senses-- but of course lots of people have experienced this throughout the pandemic but I just never really thought about it-- but when I walked outside yesterday morning with the dog, it felt like I was in a dream, not fully awake or even fully human-- I couldn't smell the grass or the flowers in my wife's garden or the damp morning air or the ragweed pollen . . . and here are some of the other things I smelled yesterday that produced no noticeable scent:

my coffee, Lola's poop, a bottle of red wine vinegar, a bottle of apple cider vinegar, an orange, grapes-- and they tasted like crisp balls of water-- hand sanitizer, and my tennis shoes . . .

so this is very fucking weird and now I can now empathize with all the people that told me about this during the course of the pandemic-- suddenly having no sense of smell really does dislodge you from reality.

Free at Last, Free at Last . . .

The one benefit of my enforced COVID sick leave was that I stayed up to watch both the Jets and the Giants play night games-- the Jets lost a close one to Kansas City on Sunday night and the Giants got smacked by the Seahawks on Monday night . . . I haven't stayed up on consecutive nights to watch sports in a long long time and while it was fun (and stressful and awful) now that both local teams are 1-3 and the Giants are facing a brutal run of games, it looks like I can quit watching, or watching with any serious playoff hopes, and instead enjoy the lovely fall weather . . . free at last, free at last.

COVID Day 5 . . . Chores

I had to stay home from work today-- district policy-- but I feel completely better and I have chores to do-- I've already mowed the lawn, cleaned another bathroom, and finished an entire episode of my podcast in one sitting (I'm releasing it tomorrow morning) and now I have to do the dishes and strip Ian's bed, which I slept in for a few nights . . . I'd also like to report that I saw both my children yesterday-- I picked up Alex from his dorm and we shot some baskets on the new rims in Donaldson and then he ate some dinner at the house and Catherine and I face-timed Ian-- and both kids are doing well in their classes-- or at least they SAY they are doing well . . . I guess we'll see at the end of the term . . . Alex tried to describe what he was doing in his physics class-- something about centrifugal forces and their effects on orbs of various materials and all the equations that applied-- but I had no clue what he was talking about . . . so I guess we're getting our money's worth.

COVID Day 4 . . . Let's Get Stir Crazy!

I pretty much feel better today-- no fever or headache-- but the nurse says that, per district policy, I still have to stay home from work (tomorrow as well) and that's probably a good thing, as I am tired (and my right eyeball hurts . . . perhaps because I had to do a bunch of grading on the computer-- staying home from school sucks, it's easier to go there and torture the children in person) but I did take a nice walk with the dog-- the weather s beautiful-- and I shot some baskets on the new court in the park, and I cleaned two bathrooms-- so gross . . . my wife has too much hair and too many bottles of hair-care products and I also learned that I love Bard AI because-- unlike Chat GPT-- Bard AI loves my podcast, We Defy Augury . . . this is how Bard describes it:


We Defy Augury is a podcast hosted by Professor G. Truck. It is described as a "weekly exploration of books, culture, and the human condition." Episodes typically cover a wide range of topics, including literary criticism, genre fiction, current events, and personal anecdotes. Professor Truck is known for his engaging and informative style, as well as his humor and wit.

Some of the topics that have been covered on the podcast include:

  • The art of the inner monologue in Colleen Hoover novels

  • The 1970s crime novel genre

  • The science fiction novel Ringworld

  • The Irish Troubles

  • The mystery of existence

  • The role of music in our lives

  • The nature of reality

Professor Truck often invites guests to join him on the podcast, including authors, scholars, and other interesting people. For example, he has had on episodes with authors Donna Tartt and Katie Williams, as well as with a mountain lion.

Overall, We Defy Augury is a podcast that is both entertaining and thought-provoking. It is a great choice for listeners who are interested in books, culture, and the human condition.

Here is a quote from a review of the podcast:

"Professor Truck is a master of his craft. He is able to make complex ideas accessible and engaging, and he always leaves me thinking. I highly recommend this podcast to anyone who loves books, learning, and good conversation."

If you are looking for a podcast that is both informative and entertaining, I highly recommend We Defy Augury . . .

 that's fucking crazy . . . is it listening?


COVID Day 3 . . . Enough of This Already

While I'm obviously happy that I'm not on a respirator (or suffering much congestion) I am still very annoyed by COVID . . . I'm hot, I'm cold, I get the chills and then suddenly I'm sweating, I can't sleep-- I have racing thoughts and night sweats-- and I'm obviously in a bad mood-- because I can't sleep well and I can't listen to music-- because it exacerbates the headache . . . it's really depressing not to be able to listen to music . . . and if you take a close look at my symptoms if it weren't for a lack of "vaginal dryness" and an "irregular period," the Mayo clinic would diagnose me as going through menopause.
A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.