November 8: Wild Dogs, Worrier, Annotated Bibliography

Billy Pilgrim was armed as he snoozed.  It was the first time he had been armed since basic training.  His companions had insisted that he arm himself, since God only knew what sorts of killers might be in burrows on the face of the moon--wild dogs, packs of rats fattened on corpses, escaped maniacs and murderers, soldiers who would never quit killing until they themselves were killed.

Billy had a tremendous cavalry pistol in his belt.  It was a relic of World War One.  It had a ring in its butt.  It was loaded with bullets the size of robins' eggs.  Billy had found it in the bedside table in a house.  That was one of the things about the end of the war.  Absolutely anybody who wanted a weapon could have one.  They were lying all around.  Billy had a saber, too.  it was a Luftwaffe ceremonial saber.  Its hilt was stamped with a screaming eagle.  The eagle was carrying a swastika and looking down.  Billy found it stuck into a telephone pole.  He had pulled it out of the pole as the wagon went by.

Billy is not a good soldier.  He doesn't care whether he's carrying a weapon or not.  Billy was the assistant to a Army chaplain, if my memory is correct.  Going to the battle front was not on his bucket list.  By this time in Slaughterhouse, Billy knows how is life is going to turn out, from the day he's born to the day he dies.  There are no surprises in his life. 

I sort of envy Billy.  I, myself, am not a big fan of surprises.  I'm a planner.  For example, this evening, a colleague of mine is observing my teaching.  This colleague is an incredibly kind and relaxed individual.  He told me on Monday, "I don't want to make this into something that causes you stress."  Like I said, he's a nice guy.

However, I am a worrier.  I like my life to be full of nothing that even smacks of spontaneity in situations like this.  Usually, when I know that I'm being observed, I fall back on a tried and true lesson plan, one that has proved successful on more than one occasion.  The last few years, I have chosen my It's a Wonderful Life lesson from my Intro to Film classes.  It always works.

I am not teaching Intro to Film this semester.  In fact, I'm only teaching one face-to-face class--first year composition.  My other class is an online mythology course.  So, first year comp it is.  And the topic on the syllabus for tonight is . . . annotated bibliography.  Terrible.

My goal for tonight, then, is to teach an interesting lesson on citing and evaluating sources for a research paper.  I have a PowerPoint.  I have four pages of notes.  And I have a lot of anxiety.  I'm not sure my plan is going to work.  I've never done it before.  I'm hoping my students will jump in and participate.  If they don't, I'm sunk.

That's why I want to be Billy Pilgrim this evening.  At least for a little while.  I simply want to know how this evening ends, whether I make an idiot of myself in front of my colleague.

Instead, Saint Marty will hole up in his office, chewing his nails, viewing and reviewing his lesson plan until he's ready to throw up.

November 19: Good News--Not That Anyone Noticed

So, I may have misinterpreted my Carol dip this morning (not that anyone has noticed since my earlier post has received no views).  If you are curious as to the subject, go and take a look at it.  It concerns having to speak with the English department head at the university about the courses I will be teaching next semester.  I was feeling pretty fatalistic about my prospects, imagining two sections of technical writing (or, as I like to call it, resume and cover letter hell).  My question for ol' Chuck Dickens was something along the lines of "Will I get two sections of Introduction to Film to teach in the winter?"

The response I got was pretty ominous--something with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come staring at Scrooge and making him feel more than a little uncomfortable.  Scary specter of the future.  That didn't seem like a very positive omen.  I was already preparing myself for the cover letters and research proposals before I phoned my boss.

Well, it turns out I may have been a little premature.  When I got him on the phone, the Department Head said, "How would you feel about two sections of Intro to Film?"

I think I said something like, "That sounds fine by me."  What I was thinking was, "Take me home and love me long time, sailor boy."

Good news.  Really good news.  If it weren't a work night, I'd have a drink to celebrate.  Something with gin and a twist of lime.   Instead, I will simply acknowledge an unexpected blessing.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is smiling on Saint Marty this evening.

Lights...Camera...Blessing...

August 20: Busy Day, Busy Work, "Carol" Dip Monday

It is going to be a busy day.  Usually, the first thing I do in the morning is check my e-mails.  Then, I browse through a few blogs I follow on a fairly consistent basis.  I check out the news on Google to see if the world has ended or I've been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature (those two occurrences are not mutually exclusive, by the way).  Then I type my morning post for Saint Marty.

This morning, I started my busy work first.  I filled out some forms, did some e-mail business for my wife, and printed out some information I need to complete my syllabus for the fall semester.  That was just in the first half hour of being on task.  After this post, I have tons more busy work to complete. 

There's a worship meeting tonight at church, and since I'm the chair of that committee, I suppose I should get an agenda done and type up the minutes of the last meeting.  As I just indicated, I also plan on completing a major portion of my syllabus for Intro to Film today, everything but the semester schedule.  The schedule's the hardest part, and I still haven't decided in what order I'm going to show the films I've selected for the class.  I know I'm starting with Charlie Chaplin's City Lights and ending with It's A Wonderful Life.  Aside from that, I'm kind of up in the air, although I'm pretty sure Citizen Kane is going to be film number two.

Whew.  That's a lot of crap to get done.  If it doesn't seem like a lot of crap, take my word for it:  it is.  Making up a syllabus gives me a great deal of anxiety.  It's like planning out my life for the rest of the calendar year.  I'm locking down my days and weeks and months.  That kind of commitment is a little difficult for me.  However, I always place a little caveat in all of my syllabi.  In front of the term "Semester Schedule," I place these words "VERY TENTATIVE."  Note the use of capitalization and boldface and italics.  I figure that addition buys me some breathing room, in case I want to change anything.

Well, it is Monday, and that means it's once again time for a Carol dip.  I've been thinking and thinking about a possible question for the great book of Dickens.  I'm not sure the following question qualifies as earth-shattering or important or even interesting, but it's what's on my mind at the moment:

Will my Intro to Film classes go well this semester?

And the answer from the Ghosts of Christmas and Tiny Tim and Ebenezer Scrooge and company is:

Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with its outstretched hand.  When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied from the turn of the hand, and its situation in reference to himself, that the Unseen Eyes were looking at him keenly.  It made him shudder, and feel very cold.

Yeesh.  That's not very encouraging at all.  Nothing like the Grim Reaper to put a chill in the air.  Guess I better really put some thought into that syllabus.

Saint Marty has some serious work to do today.

This is encouraging only if you're Ingmar Bergman

April 30: Over and Done, Doctor, Good News

I'm over and done with grading and finals and teaching for the semester.  I've handed back the tests and papers to my students who wanted them back.  The rest will reside on my desk in my office for the summer.  Then, I may consign them to the recycle bin, even though I'm supposed to somehow retain all unclaimed papers and tests for, like, two decades.  If I actually followed that rule, I'd need to rent a storage shed for all the trees killed by my students over the years.

Tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to see my doctor.  I'm still not feeling that great, and, with a long weekend of driving and dance competition ahead of me, I don't want to feel like an extra from the TV series The Walking Dead the whole time.  I should have had a check-up a few months ago, so my fever and cough have forced me to face the music.  To be honest, I'm just tired of being sick.

I did receive some good news tonight.  The head of the English Department from the university called me a little while ago, and he offered me two intro to film classes to teach.  I've never taught intro to film before, but I love movies.  That's gotta count for something.  I'm really excited by the offer.  Of course, I said "yes" immediately.  Now, I've got a few months to figure out what the hell I'm going to do.

Saint Marty is ready to take some Motrin and kick back.

I got an offer I couldn't refuse