School Gardens, The Future of American Education, Bush-Cheney, and My Husband

Trust me. This is all related. Lex, who blogs at Scholars & Rogues, posted a thoughtful comment in response to the Caitlin Flanagan garden brew-haha (is that how that's spelled). See it here. One of his points rang true at our household this week. Lex writes that

But given the economic reality of America, very few of these children will actually better their socio-economic situation by really cracking the books. The private sector hasn’t created a job in a decade now; recent college graduates are looking at massive unemployment numbers; and the jobs generally available can be done by trained monkeys.

I've noted here my concerns about the future of the American economy, especially the fact that in terms of research and intellectual development, the U. S. is being out-paced, quickly, by other countries, most especially China.

That concern came home --- literally --- this week. Unless you've been lost in space for the past year, you know that the "economy" is in trouble and that's especially true at the state level. Eg, California teeters on bankruptcy, Utah has put some state workers on four-day weeks, and so forth. One institution that's taking a hit these days is the "state" university. When times get hard, state legislators cut university budgets.

My husband is on the faculty at the state university here in Ames (Iowa State, to be precise). Last year, university administrators were told to cut the budget and this week they finally released the plan for Round One of the cuts. (They were just told to expect millions more in cuts, so presumably Round Two is not far behind.)

The deans in the College of Liberal Arts, the school that houses my husband's department, decided to divide its departments into four groups. One group --- consisting of sciences --- will continue to function as conventional research departments. (The faculty will be rewarded for its research and, to a lesser extent, for its teaching.) The other three groups contain the departments that have been "demoted" to a mostly or a strictly teaching function. Two groups will still be allowed some research time.

But one group gets none. Those departments will function as strictly "service" departments. No more new faculty. No research. Most likely no majors or upper level courses. My husband's department --- philosophy --- falls into that group.

He's trying to be, um, philosophical about it. But he places the blame not on bureaucrats, not on state legislators, but on George Bush and Dick Cheney. He argues that during their eight years, they sold off the country's future, got us into horrific debt (which, obviously, we were already in before GW was elected), and created today's mess: We're abandoning substantive education, ceding a future of intellectual development, inventions, technology, and so forth to, mostly, the Chinese.

Leaving us to squabble over things like whether kids should spend a half hour a day planting tomatoes and pulling weeds. 'Cause that's what people do when all the important stuff's been decided: fight over the crumbs of pie, while the winners feast on the pie itself.

In Which I Dive Into the Digital Age Deep End

The good folks at Book Oven are among those trying to figure out what "writing" and "books" mean in the twenty-first century. (The link takes you to the site's home page; once there, you can check out their blog, twitter link, etc.)

Among their other projects, they've created a site called Bite-Size Edits, where control freaks like me can throw caution to the wind and let you, the reader, help write/edit our books.

(Yes, I am a control freak. The very idea of turning my text loose, unedited, unfinished, unpolished is unnerving. But what's life for but to learn and grow?) So you are hereby invited to join the process.

It works like this: I post some text at the Bite-Size site. The site software spits it back out in small chunks (bytes/bites. Get it?) and you have at it. So go! Have fun! Here's the link

The Surrealism of Modern Life

You gotta love surrealism, especially when it's live! In person! Happening now! As in my past few days:

As you may know, we midwesterners just experienced a giganto-super-wallopy snow storm. The snow and wind started Tuesday afternoon and stayed with us until Wednesday afternoon (at least here in Iowa). Fourteen inches of snow, forty mile-per-hour winds, etc.

Which would have been okay, except that I was supposed to fly to Los Angeles on Thursday morning for a speaking engagement. When the airport shut down Wednesday morning, I got, um, a little worried? Would I make? Should I even try? And what to do if I can't make it? (*1)

To cut to the chase (because someone else's travel woes are about as interesting as someone else's home movies), I got up Thursday morning at 5 am and decided to give it a try. The temperature was  five degrees below zero, the streets had barely been plowed, the interstate was, as the weather people say, 100% snow and ice covered.

Took me 90 minutes to make a trek that usually take about 45 minutes (which, frankly, wasn't bad, given the circumstances). Made it to the airport without mishap. (Thank god. Because sliding off the road and into a ditch in sub-zero weather is not my idea of a good time.)

Boarded one airplane. Landed. Boarded a second plane.

Voila! Hours later I was gazing through the plane's window at --- palm trees, sun, warmth. And about an hour or so after that, I was in the hotel's rooftop, outdoor pool, swimming laps before my speaking gig. That, my friends, is the surrealism of modern life. (*2)

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*1: Being the conscientious soul that I am, I rounded up a substitute in case I couldn't make it: My dear pal and all-round-fabulous-human-being Anat Baron, the producer and director of "Beer Wars," agreed to take my place if need be, short notice and all. How great is that?

*2: Said surrealism is, to be honest, a tad exhausting. By the time I got back to Iowa last night, I was wiped out, especially thanks to a serious interstate traffic snarl of indeterminate nature that turned my forty minute trip back from the airport into an hour and 45-minute nightmare. And then I had to get up this morning and drive back to Des Moines for a previously planned engagement.

Winter, Walking, and Warmth

Man, we're having a blizzard. Serious snow. Went for a long walk earlier and enjoyed the hell out of myself. I love walking and I love walking in snow. (*1)

Speaking of which: Last year, my ten-year-old boots finally shot craps. All I wanted another pair just like them (they were Merrells) but, of course, the company no longer makes that model. (Of course. I mean, if it's a great product, why keep making it?)

So in October I started hunting for a new pair of snow/cold boots. Did an in-house test-drive of several. Kept coming across a kind made by Bogs.

Frankly, they looked so insubstantial that I kept skipping past. But after trying, and rejecting, a half dozen or so other brands of boots, and after seeing Bogs on offer from reputable companies, I decided to do a little investigating. The company claims its boots are insulated down to forty below (!) and waterproof. Truth be told, that sounded too good to be true, especially given their appearance: most winter boots are clunky, leathery, hardware-laden affairs, but these are sleek, streamlined, and minimalist.

But I found some at Zappos, and as we Z. fans know, it costs nothing to try shoes from Zappos. So I ordered a pair.

They fit. (Major deal with me: I'm 5'10" and most shoe/clothing manufacturers don't bother with tall people.) They were comfortable. I wore them a couple of times in freezing temps and my feet definitely stayed warm.

But today was the Big Test: Would my feet stay both dry and warm during an hour-long walk in seven inches of snow? YES! And because I got the tall model, my calves and ankles stayed dry, too.

So. Will they last ten years, as my last pair did? I dunno. Check back with me in, oh, four, five years.

Meanwhile, Bogs is now on my list of Things I Love, and I'm equipped for winter: My ten-year-old coat (basically this coat, but the old model) is fraying at the cuffs but otherwise up to the task. (I dread the day I have to replace it. I love the damn thing. Plus it actually comes to my knees.) (I'm thinking of trying duct tape on the cuffs.)

And last year, I finally finally finally found a serious winter-weather hat. This guy. Perfection. It's warm, water-resistant, and the brim is bigger than it looks, which means it keeps winter sun off my face. (I have CLL and am fair-skinned, to boot, so sun is not my friend.) So. The weather outside is frightful, and our, um, furnace is so delightful. But I'm ready for winter.

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*1: Walking is good for heart, body, and soul. Plus it's the most efficient way to get from Point A to Point B.

Year-End/New-Year/Random Roundup/Wrap-up

How's that for use of slash marks?

The lovely Bryan Kolesar at BrewLounge is once again running a brew-round-up, in which he asks various beer types to opine about the current and future years. His own take is here. Part One of "others'" views is here.

Elsewhere in the net-o-sphere, the equally lovely Stan Hieronymus has added more thoughts on his views about "lists." Leave it to him to be, well, thoughtful. Lew is up to his usual, so you should take a gander. Why? Because I like him. (Not, mind you, that I know the guy. I just like his smarts, talent, and wit.)

The folks at All About Beer finally (as in finally) have their new website up and running, so that's another place to visit.

Jay Brooks, a guy whose interests range far, wide, and in between, has a marvelous post about Gregg Hinlicky's portraits of brewers. The image of Fritz Maytag is a marvel. (Full disclosure: Fritz and I are friends, and the portrait captures the man's spirit and intelligence.)

Reminder: only a few days left to submit your beer photos to the 2009 contest. Tim Beauchamp has a number of posts worth reading (he's a ranter after my own heart).

And if you've ever wondered "What ARE the dimensions of a stainless steel firkin?" --- wonder no more. Tom has the answer.

In Praise of: Chris Raines and the New "Public Intellectual"

If you've read this blog for more than two minutes, you know that I'm all in favor of informed discussion and debate, which means I'm all in favor of what are usually dismissed as "scholars." You know: those pointy-head types who spend inordinate amounts of time studying a subject so that when they open their mouths to discuss their subject, what comes out is substance rather than fluff.

However, I adore scholars who then make the effort to share what they know with the rest of us. (The alternative being to remain closeted in their university offices, sharing knowledge only with other scholars.) People like that used to be called "public intellectuals," but I think of them as benefactors. Or saints, depending on my mood.

Anyway, that's why I'm a fan of Chris Raines. Chris is a professor in the Department of Dairy and Animal Science at Penn State. He's the model of a new kind of scholar: one who is not afraid of blogs, Twitter, and, gasp, making connections with ordinary people like me.

His blog, Meat Is Neat, epitomizes what scholars can (and, in my opinion, should) be doing with their expertise: sharing it in simple language that non-experts like me can understand. A prime example (no pun intended) is his recent entry on e-coli and grass-fed beef. If you have any interest in the current debate about food, food safety, and environmentalism, you should take a gander. (Hoof it over there? Paw through it?)

Chris is also a master of what Twitter can and should be. He's there as @iTweetMeat. Enjoy!