Helpful links

Okay, so I've got a little playtime this afternoon and I've found some potentially useful sites. Thought I'd share them and see if anyone else finds them helpful.

First, there's FolderShare. Back in my early days of heavy internet usage there seemed to be lots of free file storage sites on the web. Over time, though, they all seemed to convert to paid sites. FolderShare is a bit different. First, it's not a file storage site. No, somehow it links all your computers and then allows you to access files on any of them. The cool thing is that when you make a change to the file on one of the computers, it's changed on all of them. This could be disastrous, but I could have used this when I was using some version of a file storage site to work on research papers or tests. I'd always have to make sure I had the most up-to-date version on each computer. It got very confusing. I haven't really done too much with this yet, but I'm assuming each computer needs to be turned on and connected to the net for it to work. Still, if I'm trying to access files from my work computer while at home, I don't see that as a problem.

Next is Citation Machine. This would have been more useful to me when I was in school, but it still could be handy. Basically you type in the information about a source and Citation Machine will show you the proper format for a bibliography. It does MLA and some other styles. The one thing that I think might be particularly useful is that it does non-traditional sources such as websites and television interviews. I shared this with my students and figured I'd pass it along to y'all.

Finally, I just found Pandora. Though the name scares me a bit, I think this might be pretty cool. You enter an artist or song you like and Pandora will search out and play similar artists/songs. I've seen other sites that do this, but I think this one might work better than most. For one thing, you can type in other artists and songs to give the station some guidance. You can also give a song a "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" to give Pandora some hints about your musical tastes. It seems to be pretty flexible. Oh, and when you vote "thumbs down", Pandora skips to another song so you don't have to sit through a song you don't like. That seems logical, but some of the other sites like this I've used don't allow that.

I haven't listened enough to decide whether it's doing a good job of finding my musical comfort zone, but I'm going to give it a few days. So far I like what I've heard. Pandora has given me (in addition to the two artists I've specified) a couple of Laura Cantrell songs and one by Ed Bruce. I know my musical taste is a tad oddball, but it also seems to like suggesting obscure artists (at least obscure to me). I've had one song by The Stationary Poets and one by Foxymorons. Though I vetoed both, I appreciated the chance to hear new artists. If it keeps that up, I may find some new folks that I like.

Anyway, just thought I'd pass these along in case anyone is interested.

Oh, I just discovered that after a few songs (10 or so I guess), Pandora makes you register for a free account to keep listening. The registration process wasn't too invasive though and as Caffeine Brother reminds me, you don't have to tell the truth during registration!

Kind of a let down

I saw the oddest picture in the local newspaper this morning:



Evidently these fellows were caught digging a tunnel to a bank vault. The caption in the local paper said something like, "No explanation was given for their lack of clothing." I kind of liked the mystery of that.

When I read the full story online, though, I found that there was a simple explanation -- the tunnel was extremely hot. Mystery solved, but I'm a little disappointed. I'd imagined all sorts of explanations for their nudity, but it turned out to be a rather pedestrian reason. Alas.

Hey, that's me!

As you may have figured out, I don't have the time for high power blogging now. A couple of you commenters will be happy about that as you don't have to wade through my rather lengthy discourses. Still, things are really busy right now, so brief comments will be the fare of the day for a while.

On that note, ... The quirky radio station out of NC that I listen to on the net has surprised me again. Last week they played a bluegrass version of The Ballad of 40 Dollars and today they played my namesake song -- St. Caffeine.

How did I end up with St. Caffeine as my name anyhow? Well you know how many websites require a user name? Long ago I started using St. Caffeine on a bunch of those. I needed something I'd remember and I was listening to a lot of John Gorka back then. Once I started geocaching I adopted that as my name there too. I never intended, though, to be known as St. Caffeine; it was just a user name I picked. Through no fault of my own, however, I ended up meeting some fellow geocachers and I was actually called St. Caffeine by people. That was weird, but when I set up my blog it was just the name that came to mind. Hence, I'm St. Caffeine.

Lord knows I do crave the caffeine (in coffee form) and I do still like John Gorka's music, so I guess I'll stick with it. Still, I wish I'd put some time and thought into it and come up with something a tad more clever and creative. Hmm, maybe that'll be my Christmas break project -- coming up with a new blog name. Those of you who know me are welcome to make suggestions, though please keep them clean. I do have the power to delete comments!

My family, bless their hearts

Well I survived a holiday week with all kinds of family members. First there was the immediate family, then Thanksgiving night was Ma Caffeine's family, and finally Saturday night was Pa Caffeine's bunch. Know what, they're all nuts -- in a good way.

The immediate family thing wasn't a big deal, just yummy food.

Mom's side of the family thing was fairly low key, except for the babies. I spent most of the time talking to one of my cousins and her husband about backpacking and camping. We're planning a trip for sometime. The big negative on the night, though, was the fact that almost every blasted cousin in my age range has a new baby -- one even has twins! Ma Caffeine was in heaven. She kept a baby in her lap or on her hip the whole evening. I think she switched babies periodically, but they all look alike to me (even the ones who aren't twins) so I can't be sure. Regardless, I kept sensing dirty looks from her in my direction. Sigh!

Dad's family gathering is always a hoot. First off there's just so darned many of them. He has 8 brothers and sisters and most of them have kids who have kids who ... The one noteworthy happening was that I was able to verify (so they say) that Baron's (pronounced Bay Run) wife, Theresa (pronounced TH reesa), really is the same woman he's been married to for several years. There was some question about this after the 4th of July gathering. While I agreed that she looked completely different, I felt it had to be the same woman. Alternative explanations were just too bizarre. Somehow, though, various family members got the idea that I was the one claiming it was a different woman. In reality I got into a bit of an argument with both my parents because I refused to believe Baron had a new Theresa. I spent most of the time with my cousin Rebecca who now does pottery. That's kind of neat. Oh, and I did get to listen to one cousin repeatedly complain about how difficult and unreasonable her economics class is. "All they do," she said, "is draw graphs and tell stories." I'm glad to see it's not just my students.

Well that was my holiday. Oh, I did get some new Sipsey pix, but I figure y'all have seen enough of those.

So full, ugh

So I survived Thanksgiving Day, but now I still have one more gathering (with food) to get through. Pa Caffeine's side of the family is having its gathering tonight. I will try not to overdo it, but I don't hold out much hope. Fondness for turkey and dressing is my fatal flaw. Yep, if I were Roadrunner, all Wylie Coyote would have to do is place a pan of bird and dressing under the box and he could trap me with no trouble. I wouldn't even complain as long as he left the dressing in the trap. Oh, and Vol, I'm talking DRESSING, not Stove Top stuff.

Anyway, the holiday break has, so far, been without major incident. The biggest news is that my backpacking tent arrived Wednesday. I felt like a little kid when I immediately set it up in the back yard, but I couldn't just leave it in the box. I think the tent will be just fine for me, but if I'm going to share this tent with anyone on the trail, then it better be someone I'm really comfortable with. The tent is seriously small. I guess it's a good thing I'm not a legitimate 6 footer.

So, not much to say today. I just hadn't posted in a while and I got the yen to write something. Blogging has been light, though, since dial up connections are so frustrating. C'mon, I don't have a cell phone, so you know I'm not springing for high speed internet.

Oh, also a big Happy Birthday to A. I'll think about you tonight while I'm eating Ma Caffeine's pecan pie.

Joe Nichols let me down

Following up on an earlier post, I ordered Joe Nichols' CD, III. I think this may be the first time I've ever ordered a CD without having heard a single song by the artist.

Anyway the timing was perfect as I had to run over to Huntsville last night and that gave me a chance to evaluate Mr. Nichols. First, the song Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off was not a disappointment. Mind you it's not high art, but it is clever and, I thought, well done. As I looked at the liner notes more closely (something you really shouldn't do while driving), though, I became sorely offended. From the little bit I heard about old Joe on the radio, I thought he said something like, "Everyone has a tequila song and this is mine." Well he did not write the song! So it is a good tequila story, but it's not his! Okay that put me in a foul mood.

The mood just got worse as I listened to the rest of the disc. For the most part the songs on III are very uninspired -- he's country and she's not, he's chasing a woman but he doesn't want to, love is fun and it sucks at the same time, etc. The two covers that I was excited about (Should I Come Home (Or Should I Go Crazy) and My Old Friend the Blues) are very ordinary. They sound like carbon copies of the originals, with maybe a little mandolin added. It's easy to hear Merle's influence on Joe and there are two songs at the end of the album actually co-written by Joe that show a little promise, but the whole time I was listening to the record I kept wondering, "Why?"

9 of the 11 songs were written by others, so it's obvious he didn't get this record deal based on his songwriting ability. His singing is just sort of average, so it's not his vocal ability. His covers are bland, so it's not that he brings a refreshing new take to old standards. I'm not saying just anyone could have done this record, but I'd say any one of the hundreds of "cowboys" playing the bars in downtown Nashville on a weekend night could have. I just don't see why Joe Nichols was chosen.

The Amazon shipment wasn't a total loss, though, as I ordered another CD -- Ryan Adams' (and The Cardinals, whoever they are) Jacksonville City Nights. With Ryan you never know exactly what you're gonna get, but I think this one's a keeper. Critics say it is his version of a traditional old country album. Though I don't necessarily see that, there is a heavy steel guitar presence on the album. Still, this records beats the pants off III. Just as an example, here are two lyrics (1st is Mr. Nichols, 2nd is Mr. Adams) that caught my ear while listening to each CD:

She likes bein' within' spendin' distance of a mall
Havin' enough bars to make a cell phone call
Put her in a crowd and she's right in her element
Yeah, I'm about as country as she gets

And in the cotton fields by the house where I was born
The leaves burn like effigies of my kin.
And the trains run like snakes through the Pentecostal pines
Filled up with cotton and dime store gin.

Though I can't honestly say I've ever seen gin in a dime store, that just knocked me out. I had to "rewind" and listen to that verse over and over -- something that happened not once with III. Yes, I know these records aren't directly comparable, but III is a perfect example of why I don't listen to (new) country radio anymore. Still, the tequila song is pretty cool and I guess I should thank old Joe for perhaps introducing some folks to classics by Gene Watson and Steve Earle.

Still, I'm really glad III wasn't the only CD I got yesterday. I'd have been pissed.

P.S. Some group called Wildfire is doing a bluegrass version of The Ballad of Forty Dollars right now on the cool station out of NC that I listen to via the net. That's cool.

Fruitcake call

Last Friday night, about 10 o'clock, I got a strange phone call. [Now those of you who know me, or if you've just read some of my past adventures, know this could go anywhere.] So anyway, I leaned over and looked at the caller ID and I was a bit taken aback. The name/number that showed up was the parents of a young lady that I dated for a (too) brief but (too) intense period of time almost 4 YEARS AGO! I couldn't figure out why she'd be calling, from her parents' house no less, but I figured it wasn't good.

When I picked up the phone, though, it wasn't Allie (not her real name); it was Allie's dad! Now keep in mind, her parents really liked me and I always got along well with them. In fact, after the courtship was over, her folks called up and left a touching, yet slightly disturbing, happy birthday message on my answering machine. Still, that was the last time I'd heard from her folks in about 3.5 years. Needless to say, I was a bit discombobulated. The dad made small talk for a couple of minutes -- asking if my parents had any damage from the TN storms a week or so ago, asking about Dad and his horses, and finally bringing up Mom's fruitcake. That was it. The whole conversation lasted less than 4 minutes and Allie's name was never mentioned once.

The only (sort of) logical explanation I can come up with is that this was a fruitcake call. I've heard tell (mainly from my friend, Stella) of the post-breakup booty call, but I think this was a fruitcake call. See my mom makes a killer fruitcake. I'm not a fan of the fruitcake, but Mom's is an exception. Seriously, it is yummy and during our time together I remember that Allie and I took some of my mom's fruitcake to her dad. I had forgotten, but he did like it -- a lot! So this past Friday night he mentioned that he and his wife had seen something on TV about fruitcakes and that got them to thinking about my mom's cake. End result -- they called to talk about Mom's fruitcake. Like a booty call, I think he may have been trying to plant a (metaphorical) seed -- especially since he signed off with a come see us.

Though the conversation lasted about 3 minutes, my confusion lasted much longer. First, how did he get my new number given that he didn't even know I'd moved away from Huntsville? Second, why the heck was he calling? Third, if he did have an ulterior motive, why make the call so short? Assuming it was a fruitcake call, though, it may have worked. I mentioned it to Mom and she asked, "Do I need to make him one?" Of course Mom would make him a cake a day if she thought that might get her a daughter-in-law, but I told her I didn't think so. Still, I know Mom and I expect that sometime during the holiday season, she will give me a fruitcake and tell me to take it to him.

We'll see, but if this is an omen of Christmas present, this may be an odd holiday season.

Hodgepodge

Yesterday I got off on a bit of a wild rant, but the music video thing has bugged me for years -- ever since video killed the radio star (supposedly the first video ever aired by MTV) -- and it just all came spilling out. Today I present a hodgepodge of items of interest to celebrate the beginning of my week off from teaching (I still have to show up 3 days next week for professional development activities). So ...

Given that Walk the Line is coming out this weekend, I thought this little bit over at Marginal Revolution was appropriate:

I'd always thought that Sun Records and Sam Philips himself had created the most crucial, uplifting and powerful records ever made. Next to Sam's records, all the rest sounded fruity. On Sun Records the artists were singing for their lives and sounded like they were coming from the most mysterious place on the planet. No justice for them. They were so strong, can send you up a wall. If you were walking away and looked back at them, you could be turned into stone. Johnny Cash's records were no exception, but they weren't what you expected. Johnny didn't have a piercing yell, but ten thousand years of culture fell from him. He could have been a cave dweller. He sounds like he's at the edge of the fire, or in the deep snow, or in a ghostly forest, the coolness of conscious obvious strength, full tilt and vibrant with danger. "I keep a close watch on this heart of mine." Indeed. I must have recited those lines to myself a million times. Johnny's voice was so big, it made the world grow small, unusually low pitched - dark and booming, and he had the right band to match him, the rippling rhythm and cadence of click-clack. Words that were the rule of law and backed by the power of God.

Those are Bob Dylan's words from Chronicles, Vol. 1. I knew Bob and Johnny had a friendship of a sort, but I didn't know Bob was that much of an admirer.


I know this story already has sparked some outrage, but I felt the need to mention it too. I am amazed by the Fulton County (GA) judge who ORDERED Georgia Tech to reinstate the football player who "was arrested June 21 in Atlanta in connection with a marijuana distribution operation based in California. According to a criminal complaint filed in Fresno, Calif., Houston conspired to possess and distribute about 100 pounds of marijuana, which has a street value of about $60,000." GA Tech had already let him back in school, but he was kicked off the team. Judge M. Gino Brogdon, though, felt Tech's decision to exclude the player from football "was arbitrary and strikingly dissimilar to the school's treatment of other similarly situated athletes who have been accused of breaking the law." Tech's argument is they've never had another player charged with a felony, so they don't quite see how they can be arbitrary and dissimilar in this case. Sigh; another what's the world coming to?

Another interesting thing that caught my eye in today's paper was this discussion of the scientific consensus on the human contribution to global warming. Though I am a big fan of environmental protection and I contribute money to lots of environmental causes, I do believe skepticism can be valuable. Today there seems to be a rush to embrace this everybody knows thinking on global warming and I'm afraid we're missing valuable contributions from dissent. Just as in politics, dissenters such as Bjorn Lomborg are being dismissed out of hand by many in the mainstream. I read his book and I wasn't overwhelmed, but he did make some valid points that I think are worth investigating. Science is supposed to be about the investigation of alternative theories (I thought) until the answer is found (if ever). I liked the column's mention of "this year's winner of Nobel Prize for medicine, Barry Marshall, who believed ulcers were caused by bacteria, when the establishment knew that Marshall's theory was "preposterous" -- except that Marshall turned out to be right." I'm not arguing for intelligent design in the classroom, but scientists shouldn't just dismiss alternative theories simply because everyone knows the answer is X.

Anyway, some things to mull over. I'm going home to have some fun for a couple of days -- until I have to grade those stats tests.

High Dudgeon

What is it now that has raised my hackles so? This! Melusina has a nice little rant about this over at Mel's Diner, but I feel the need to chime in as well.

Some enterprising sort is condensing literary classics down to text messages as a way "to help students revise for exams." Yeah, right. It's CliffsNotes (the company's spelling) on steroids! Mind you, I'm not surprised that someone has hatched this scheme. What I am surprised by, though, is that they found a university professor to endorse the scheme and apparently write the condensed text versions of the works.

Professor John Sutherland, of University College London, believes the new service, "amply demonstrates text's ability to fillet out the important elements in a plot," and offers immense educational opportunities. I've never tried to fillet a book, but color me skeptical. Students are NOT going to use this primarily as a quick review just before the test. No, they're going to try to skip reading the book (as with CliffsNotes), but this will be even worse. I expect they'll attempt to use the new service to cheat on exams as it's a lot easier to hide a text messaging device than a big yellow and black copy of CliffsNotes.

Now for my own rant ... First the disclaimers:

I don't think CliffsNotes and similar devices should be outlawed or sold by prescription only -- I'm way too libertarian for that. In fact, I will admit I have used CliffsNotes in the past. I really would not have gotten as much as I did from The Sound and the Fury if not for Mr. Cliff and his notes. Honestly, though, I used them as a supplement, not a substitute.

Nor do I think every word Faulkner or Dickens or ... wrote is holy and sacred. As Vol Abroad points out in the comments at Mel's Diner, "Dickens could probably use with some slimming down - given that all his stuff was originally serialised and he was paid by the word."

So, it's not that I'm against the existence of things that can be used as substitutes for the real experience of a work of art. Do not, though, claim that you've seen, read, or understood some work if you've only experienced the substitute. That's why I'm (generally) against CliffsNotes, books on tape, music videos, etc. Each may have it's place, but don't tell me you've READ a certain book if you've really only listened to it on tape (okay, ang, CD). Even if it's the unabridged version read by the author, that's not reading. Reading a book is a sensory experience that can't be replicated through a sound system. Now if you like books on tape to kill time on long drives (I've done that) or you just want to listen to John Grisham rather than read him, I've got no beef with you. Again, though, do not say you've READ the book.

Wait, though, why did I include music videos in my list of hates? Same reason. I get really annoyed when someone tries to tell me about a great song he's heard, but when he begins to tell me about the song all he does is describe the video! The video is an (I suppose) art form independent of the song. They are not the same. Enjoy videos for what they are, but do not confuse the video with the song. Personally I refuse to watch videos precisely because I'm afraid that I won't be able to maintain that separation. I'm afraid I won't be able to listen to a song without the images from the video overriding any alternative impression the song might have made on me.

It's not exactly the same thing, but Rosie Thomas has an absolute jewel of a song called Wedding Day. When I first heard the song I took "wedding day" to be a metaphor for a time and place when everything clicks into place and things just work -- sort of a personal Garden of Eden. Hence, when Rosie sang about a woman packing up her car and hitting the road searching for a situation that would be "just like her wedding day", I saw it as the ultimate optimistic road trip. In fact, I saw the protagonist as a single woman with a happy ideal of what a wedding day should be like. She'd finally worked up the gumption to go out and look for what would make her happy rather than sitting around waiting for happiness to find her.

Later, though, I read a review of the album and the reviewer said the song was about a woman who was fed up with her marriage and was leaving her husband. Aw man, what a downer! That may be the more mainstream interpretation of the song, but I like my version better. "Leaving a bad man" songs are a dime a dozen, but that's not how I took Wedding Day. If I'd read the review before hearing the song, though, I'm afraid I would never have seen the more optimistic take and I'd have thought it was just another These Boots Were Made For Walking.

I know my take on music videos is unusual, but to me they're just like CliffsNotes. You'll never be open to a fresh or unusual interpretation of a song or book if someone's already told you what it's about. Yeah, I'm strange. I've never denied it.

King Albert (a baseball post)

As I'm sure you all know by now, especially if you read yesterday's post, Albert Pujols won the 2005 NL MVP. As a Cardinals fan, that made me extremely happy, but I also happen to think he deserved it. I've heard a lot of general buzz about how Andruw Jones should have won the award. I even read one guy's comment that Jones would not win (this was before the award was announced) because the Braves are always overlooked and ignored. That guy must have been smoking something other than Malboros, but I won't get into that.

Andruw did beat Albert in two of the sexy categories -- HRs and RBI -- but voters finally are beginning to look past those particular stats. Using virtually every measure of true effectiveness, Pujols smoked Jones. I know batting average is a discredited stat right now, but BA with runners in scoring position maybe does give you some measure of a player's contribution in important situations. Since Andrew had 11 more RBI than Albert, he must have done okay with RISP, right? Nope! With RISP, Albert hit .329 (1 point lower than his season average) while Andruw hit an astonishingly poor .207 (56 points below his season average)! So how did Andruw pile up all those RBI? Well he did hit 10 more HRs than Albert, but he had 44 more at bats with RISP. Yes, that awful, horrible, younth-infested Braves lineup that Jones CARRIED, all on his own, through the season managed to give Andruw 44 more at bats with runners in scoring position than did the Cardinals' vaunted scoring attack.

Living in Braves Country, I got sick of hearing how great the Braves were doing DESPITE having to use all those rookies. Fact is, those rookies had pretty good seasons. Jones supporters seemed to overlook the fact that 4 of the 8 regular position players for the Cardinals missed significant chunks of the season. In fact, a comparison of the Braves without Jones and the Cards without Pujols shows the following [NOTE: OPS is on base percentage + slugging percentage; widely acknowledged as a better measure of offensive performance than simple batting average]:

Braves (no Jones): 605 RBI, 133 HRs, and (approx.) 0.750 OPS.
Cardinals (no Pujols): 640 RBI, 129 HRs, and (approx) 0.729 OPS.

Yep, those Baby Braves (along with Chipper) actually were a fairly potent offensive force. They did produce fewer RBI, but they hit more HRs and had a higher OPS than the much admired Cardinals offense (minus Pujols). The truth of the matter is, Jones and Pujols both carried their teams through some unexpected difficulties this year. So enough about how Andruw was so important to the Braves while the Cards would have won anyway.

Though I am a die-hard Cardinals fan, I am a baseball fan first. I can honestly say I would have been disappointed but not (too) upset if the MVP had gone to Derrek Lee. He actually had a slightly better statistical year than Pujols, but his team fell out of contention too early. That wasn't really Lee's fault, but his numbers did fall off pretty sharply after an amazing first two months (unlike someone else who had consistent numbers pretty much all year). Still, I'd have understood if Lee had won it. I don't, though, see where people get the idea that Andruw Jones should have won. To me it should have been a 2 horse race between Lee and Pujols. Were Lee's better numbers enough better to outweigh the finishing position of his team? The voters said no.

Actually, Jayson Stark has a much better discussion of the whole Pujols vs. Jones issue over at ESPN. If you're a baseball fan, go read the whole thing. It's really pretty good. If you're not a baseball fan I figure you've stopped reading by now. If not, sorry.

Can you hear me now?

A horrible thing has happened. I'm losing my voice! Now I know the students won't be terribly upset if I can't impart my vast knowledge of microeconomics (price discriminating monopolies) and statistics (review of binomial vs. Poisson) today, but this is a bit serious. Given that I make my living by talking, what do I do if my voice conks out completely? Yes, I know it'll pass once my cold clears up, but in the meantime I'm thinking I may have to use sock puppets and pantomime to teach class. Lookout Mr. Sock, don't get crushed by that giant deadweight loss! Hey, do any of you remember the episode of Buffy where everyone in Sunnydale lost the ability to speak? Hmm, maybe I've been afflicted by a demon!

In the meantime, anyone got any happy news? I need something to cheer me up. Here's one to get things started -- cute little puppy.

Update: One of my co-worker's brought me chicken soup today since I was so pitiful yesterday afternoon. I appreciated that a bunch, but the most cheerful news of the day is that Albert won the MVP! Warning, Vol, that's baseball related.

Running behind

Okay, so I took the opportunity to play on my day off rather than catch up on work. No surprise there. As a result of my "play day", however, I am a bit behind schedule and it's just Monday!

So, what did I do on my day off? I went back to the Sipsey Wilderness Area. This time I was determined to stick to established trails, as I did not want a repeat of my "blaze your own trail" experience from last time. The plan wasn't bad, but two things went wrong:

1. I was WAY too ambitious in planning my route. I didn't want to backtrack over the same trail, but the loop I decided on was much too long for a day hike.
2. Though I tried to stay on trails, twice I was forced to bushwhack. The first time I just thought the trail had disappeared so I needlessly climbed out of a canyon and then spent half an hour trying to get back down to the creek. The second time the trail really did disappear, right in the middle of an entire hillside of downed trees. I looked and looked, but there was no good way around. Finally I just gave up and crawled around, over, and through giant tangles of trees. Given my deathly fear of snakes, I'm not sure just how I managed to do that, but I did.

Eventually I made it through the tangle of trees and picked up the very faint trail (this was not a high traffic area) on the other side. Someone had been kind enough to tie blue surveyor ribbons on occasional trees so I was able to keep the trail after that. It's amazing how quickly a trail through the woods disappears if it is not traveled much.

That, though, did not solve my biggest problem -- the fact that I'd planned a much too long route. I finally made it to the trail that would take me back to the parking area, but I was still 2.92 miles from the car, I was exhausted, I was hungry, and there was only about half an hour of daylight left. Despite my planning, I seemed to again be the DON'T BE LIKE THIS IDIOT guy from the hunter safety films. The worst part was that I could see it all coming, but I was out in the middle of nowhere and I couldn't really do much about it. I had taken my usual gear along with me, but I seemed to have misplaced my flashlight and I hadn't packed enough food or water. By the way, despite what they say, you can in fact drink water from streams in the Sipsey. Just make sure it's running water, preferably coming out of a hillside rather than a free flowing stream.

So, I was 2.92 miles from the car and it was getting dark. How do I keep finding myself in these situations? Basically I think it's because I don't really mind being in these situations. I don't pretend to be Davy Crockett (though I did go to David Crockett Elementary), but I can get by in the woods. Plus, I knew the moon was almost full and the final trail I was on was a former forest service road so I figured it would be easy to follow. All these assumptions turned out to be true and I did make it back safe and sound. Along the way, though, I did get spooked a time or two -- a couple of times when I startled critters (don't know what kind, don't want to know) in the undergrowth and once when I heard a bunch of coyotes howling.

The downside: I was completely and totally exhausted. The hour spent fighting through the thicket of trees almost did me in. I wasn't really able to move without grunting until sometime Sunday afternoon. Though I cursed the route I took at the time, I'm now eager to get back and explore some areas I just could not get to on Friday. I really want to see the giant poplar tree and the East Bee Branch Falls. Plus, I've now caught the camping bug. I plan to go spend a night or two out there over Christmas break. Thanks to a co-worker's concern, though, in the future I will tell someone where I'm going. Given my penchant for getting into scrapes, I figure that's not a bad idea. In the meantime, my day sure beat sitting around the house watching TV and grading papers:

Who the heck is Joe Nichols?

Though some of you know this about me, others may find it a bit surprising -- back in my high school days I was the world's biggest hick. I hung out with a group of guys who measured your cool factor by just how many different colors your Fruit of the Loom pocket t-shirt collection included. I don't remember the exact answer, but it was more than enough for a different color each day of the week. Oooh, the requisite ensemble also included cowboy boots (of course) and a red Co-Op hat. If you have to ask, "What's a Co-Op hat?", then don't bother -- you wouldn't get it anyway.

Eventually I began to leave that lifestyle behind. Though I've still got a lot of hick in me (for instance, folks still make fun of the way I say "insurance" -- that pronunciation actually came up in the movie Marnie), you should have seen me back when. Heck, I even wear khaki pants most days of the week now and I'll admit that they're often more comfortable than jeans. Still, it's been a long journey.

One of the things that has changed over the years has been my feeling toward country music. Needless to say, in my colored t-shirt and cowboy boots days I was all over it. As the years passed, though, I became less fond of the twang. To this day, I'm torn over country music. Part of this is due to the fact I changed, but a lot of it is due to changes within the musical form. I absolutely detest most all the current "hat acts" -- pretty boys with biceps, sleeveless shirts, and perfect white cowboy hats. I also abhor the country songbirds (e.g., Faith Hill) who have great voices, but wouldn't know a good lyrical storyline if it hit them on the noggin. Of course there are exceptions. For instance, I really like the Dixie Chicks despite their "pop-country" style. The kind of country music I do like, though, is old country -- Merle, Johnny, Patsy, Loretta, etc. -- and one local radio station still plays that stuff. The other day, though, I heard a bit of an interview with this guy named Joe Nichols on the radio and I'm thinking I might have to give him a chance.

Though I don't know anything about Joe Nichols, he has a new album out. What caught my attention was that they mentioned one particular song on this album: Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off. Mr. Nichols said EVERYONE has a tequila story and that was his. I haven't heard the song, but I'm thinking of buying the album because he's sooooo right.

I can tell my own tequila story because I wasn't the one "acting the fool". Nope, I was the responsible one that night. Since the main character in the story later became a youth counselor of some sort I won't go into details (you never know how this stuff will come back to haunt you), but let me just say the night included a past Florida lottery winner on the run from her creditors, Lance Armstrong's childhood sweetheart, lots of cheap tequila, and a visit to an Alberta City tattoo and piercing parlor with a large sign proclaiming they WOULD NOT service you if you'd been drinking. The sign was just for show.

So yep, everyone has a tequila story. I'm thinking I'd like to hear Joe Nichols'. Oh, the critics liken his performance on this album to Merle Haggard and George Jones AND I see that he covers Gene Watson's "Should I Come Home (Or Should I Go Crazy) as well as Steve Earle's "My Old Friend The Blues". Yeah, I'm thinking Mr. Nichols might get my $10.99 for this effort.

Glad to see ...

As an educator, of a sort, I'm always glad to see proof that students are not suffering too much from low self esteem. That's why I was so happy with this story.

The Record, the independent newspaper at Harvard Law School, conducted a "survey" (of Harvard Law students, mind you) and the results show the top law school in the country is ... Are you ready? The top law school in the country, according to Harvard Law students, is HARVARD!

Here's my favorite bit from the story:

Perhaps the most surprising finding was that HLS [Harvard Law School] came out on top. The Record found that despite their lack of enthusiasm over the first-year legal writing program and their antipathy toward Hark food, the majority of HLS students believe their school to be the best.

I don't think that was intended as sarcasm!

Well, off to Huntsville for a meeting today. Just trying to make it to Veterans' Day!

Remember Tetris?

Yeah, remember all those wasted hours trying to get the little blocks to line up just right? I'm afraid this could be just as bad. Take a shot at WordMambo. The premise is simple, but the execution is difficult. I played once and the worst possible thing happened -- I got the word in something like 12 guesses and the computer told me that made me a WORD GENIUS or something like that. How could I not play again? Of course now I haven't been able to get below 20 guesses on subsequent games. Regardless, I'm afraid I'm hooked.

More books, dang it

Well it looks as if my claim to be the stupidest person on the planet is safe! Why? I went to the used book sale at the Decatur library last week. First, let me remind everyone that I had absolutely no need for more books. I've already got a stack that I'm trying to get through and I've got a bunch of work-related stuff to get through, but I couldn't resist.

I tend to shop a lot at the Decatur library's used book annex and I can't quite decide what the selection of available books says about Decatur's reading habits. On the one hand, I almost always find a non-best seller book or two that really interest me and that makes me think Decatur is a "good reading" town. On the other hand, someone is giving up those great books so that makes me think Decatur is not a "good reading" town. As discussed in the book snob posts, maybe Decatur is a good book buying town, but not a good book reading town. Regardless, I'm pleased that I'm able to find good books cheap. So what did I buy?

I only spent $2 and I didn't see another copy of The Secret History, but I did manage to get some pretty good books:

1. A hardcover copy of The Stand. I used to read some Stephen King and I've always been told that The Stand really is a good book. The problem, though, is that it's approximately 1200 pages and I knew I'd never get through that during a checkout period. I could have bought a copy, but the cheap copies tend to be the mass market paperback and once I managed to read that version of Atlas Shrugged, I swore I'd never read another huge book in that format. Hence, I figured a nice hardback copy was worth 50 cents.
2. An old, oversized copy of The Great Gatsby. I've had my old, mass market copy with the blue cover for years, but this was an older (bigger margins) version.
3. The Dogs of Babel (suggested by Anonymous during the last round of book posts). I'll let you know what I think once I get around to it.
4. Herzog, by Saul Bellow. Got to love Saul and I think this was his best.
5. A big, oversized copy of Cryptonomicon, by Neal Stephenson. I've read lots of his stuff and this is supposed to be his magnum opus. I once read about 2/3 of this book, but like The Stand, I ran out of time. Now I have my own copy so I figure I'll make it through it.
   

Yep, that was my $2 worth of books. Oh, I saw a couple of Ellen Gilchrist books, but I've already got just about everything she's written. Still, I hated to see them sitting there available for 25 cents each. I ended up sort of forcing them on a woman that was looking at the same table. In my defense, I just pointed them out to her and suggested she read the back covers to see if they sounded interested. I told her that Ellen is one of those "modern Southern female" writers and she said she reads a lot of that stuff, so she just picked them up on my recommendation. Caffeine Brother asked what the woman looked like, but I promise that was not my motivation. I simply wanted someone to pick up those Ellen books so I wouldn't have to. Full disclosure, though, she was a comely lass -- though it went no further than a book recommendation, I promise!

Oh, to make my reading life even more hectic, The Decatur Daily has decided to let me back into their book reviewing clique. I had a conspiracy theory that they were freezing me out since I eviscerated a novel by Marshall Boswell, but evidently they haven't blackballed me. Nope, they are letting me review The Moral Consequences of Economic Growth. Now think a minute about how dull this book sounds. Done that? Well it's even drier than you'd imagine! The author has a very basic premise, but he takes 486 pages to present it. I'll let you know more when I finish it, but it's not promising right now.

Okay, I'll get off the book posting for a while. Right now, though, I have to get to work on a test for tomorrow.

Governor blogging

With very short notice (middle of Friday afternoon), we were told the following:

Governor Riley will be on campus this Monday, November 7, at 11:15 a.m. to address all employees. The meeting will be located in the xxx Lecture Hall and will last about 30 minutes. Please plan to arrive at 11:00 a.m. to allow everyone to be seated before the program begins.

Classes will be dismissed at 11:00 a.m. to allow all faculty to attend. Only the 11:00 a.m. classes will be affected by this dismissal. All other classes will meet as scheduled.

Please let Dr. xxx know if you cannot attend.

Now, I thought it was good to get a chance to hear the Governor's thoughts on the 2-year college system here in AL, but I could have done with a bit more notice. I have a mini-mester principles class (usually runs till 11:40) that is having a test on Wednesday and I'd planned to finish preparing them today. As it was, I had to try to squeeze too much into too short a time. I'm pretty sure I know what the outcome will be, but I'll deal with that next week.

Anyway, point is -- I got to hear the Governor speak today, but now I'm even more behind. Oh, as for the Governor's speech ...

It was not a bad talk. He spoke about how economic and workforce development are THE priority issues for the state right now and the 2-year system will continue to be the leaders in these areas. In addition, we (the state) just got a bazillion dollars in federal grants for workforce development, etc. It was a typical "rah rah" speech, but it was pretty good. Of course, Gov. Riley is not hugely popular because he opposed the 6% education raise last year, but I think the man is a realist who doesn't like to promise the impossible. Anyway, that's just my opinion -- which I keep to myself around my co-workers.

So, blogging will be brief this week while I try to catch up the econ folks and teach the Poisson distribution to stats.

Feeling lucky?

I've resisted blogging on this topic as I figure I'll have to go off on a nuclear rant on it before next November, but I saw a piece in today's Christian Science Monitor (one of my favorite newspapers if for no other reason than the anachronistic name they cling to) that got my juices flowing. What is this topic that has the capacity to get me so incensed? THE LOTTERY!

As you may know, AL is one of the few states left without a lottery. Former governor Don Siegelman ran, and was elected, on a lottery platform, yet the voters then paradoxically voted down his lottery referendum. What was Don's response? He basically took his ball and went home. No lottery? Well screw you Alabama citizens! Now, Don has decided he needs to run again (if he can get rid of that nasty little federal indictment that's pestering him right now). Now IS the time for a lottery, says Don. I'll comment on my reasons for opposing a state lottery in a few minutes, but let me just say Don's campaign is one of the few things the Huntsville Times' editorial board and I agree on.

Anyway, today's CSM has an op-ed piece by Steve Coronella, a freelance writer living in Ireland. Mr. Coronella has a novel, almost foolproof, system for playing the lottery -- he doesn't!

What's my secret? Every Wednesday and Saturday, the two days on which the winning numbers are drawn here in Ireland, I walk right past my local lottery outlet and pocket the nearly five euros it would take to play a basic combo ticket. Over the past 10 years I reckon I've "won" more than five thousand euros as a result of my strategic penny-pinching.

Mr. Coronella admits he used to play the lottery. He had his regular set of numbers and even today he knows them by heart. Doesn't he miss the old rush of excitement he'd get from checking his numbers to see if his ship had come in? No. Instead:

These days I no longer play, but still - twice a week - I match those numbers against the winning lines generated by the National Lottery here. Then I breathe a massive sigh of relief when - invariably - my numbers don't come up.

The thrill is the same as if I'd actually played (only in reverse, of course), but the odds are considerably greater in my favor.

All-in-all I thought it was a quite clever piece on the silliness of state lotteries. It did not, though, address my specific reasons for opposing such enterprises. What are my complaints? If you've paid any attention to the lottery movement, you've heard these before, but in brief:

1. A lottery is an EXTREMELY regressive form of taxation. I know many (most) taxes are regressive, but this is one of the worst. Who do you think spends a bigger share of his income on Lotto, Bill Gates or Joe SixPack? Besides the basic regressivity of the lottery, I am amazed that politicians have the gall to claim that if we only had a lottery, we could remove the regressive sales tax on food. WHAT?!?! How can a politician make that claim with a straight face? That's like the doctor saying if I could amputate your right hand, then I could give you a replacement for your left. [Full disclosure: I don't have an actual link to Siegelman making this claim, but I swear I've heard it before and it seems to be a subtext in all the lottery discussions.]

2. It's an inefficient form of taxation. Not only do you have to collect more than the required amount of revenue (so you can "rebate" some of it to the winners), but you actually have to pay part of the proceeds to some company to run your lottery. That's idiotic. We've got tax collectors, why pay an outside body to come collect taxes for us?

3. It puts the state in an awkward position. The state gets tax money from booze, smokes, and speeding tickets, yet you don't see it running commercials encouraging drinking, smoking, and fast driving. With lotteries, though, states routinely run advertising campaigns designed to pump up sales, especially after the initial glow wears off. I'm enough of a libertarian that I wouldn't really care if someone were running a private lottery and the government simply taxed it. I'd still think it was an immoral enterprise (and I don't want to impose morality on others), but at least the government wouldn't be in the position of "pushing" the behavior.

4. What about the "good" aspects -- education funds, someone does "win", etc.? Well, most states (sorry, don't have a study right at hand) end up diverting an almost equal number of dollars AWAY from education. As for the "winners", how would you feel if the state said it was going to double property taxes, but then give a third of that money to some random homeowner? I think most people would find that rather capricious and a tad unfair. That's what a lottery does, except that it exempts (most of) the wealthy.

5. The only compelling argument I see for the lottery is if you can "steal" tax revenue from next door. TN is doing that with AL right now, but most of the states surrounding us already have a lottery (MS being the exception) so that doesn't really work. Yes, we might keep some of those lottery dollars at home, but I figure the marginal impact of that would not outweigh the above points.

Anyway, those are my feelings. Again, I don't care to try to tell anyone what he or she SHOULD do, but I don't like the state encouraging this behavior. In the vein of What's Wrong With Kansas?, though, I should embrace a lottery. It would be a way for the state to collect more tax revenue and I wouldn't have to pay a penny of it. Still not going to bite though. Don's going to have to come up with something else before he gets my vote!

Homage to Pa Caffeine

Those of you who know my dad know that he is a wonderful man. Seriously, the man can do anything and he's never (to my knowledge) turned down a request for help. He's just a flat-out good guy. Everyone who knows him loves him and Dad likes them right back. If Pa Caffeine doesn't like you, well that means you are a worthless cur -- an oxygen thief depriving the worthies of the world their fair share of resources -- and you should immediately be banished to parts unknown. Through the years of my memory, I can only come up with a couple of people that Dad just did not like and he was right in each case -- the object of his scorn did turn out to be a bad apple.

Okay maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but all my life my dad has been a "go to" guy. As my group of friends changed over the years, Dad adapted to each new group and they all thought he was a great guy. Even the neighborhood kids that weren't in my crowd seemed to be drawn to Dad. He was always willing to help fix the tail on a kite, untangle fishing line, put your chain back on your bike, or (as we aged) help change the oil or rotate the tires on a young man's dream machine. He could do all these things and he could do them better than anyone else I knew. The real feather in Dad's cap, though, was not that he COULD do these things, but that he WOULD do these things and never make you feel you were imposing on him.

Though Pa Caaffeine has always been a handy and helpful fellow to have around, the one activity he really shines at is sharpening knives. If you're male and you grew up in the South (at least the rural South) you know that a young man's worth often is inextricably tied to his pocket knife. Dad is a wizard when it comes to pocket knives. He keeps his knives razor sharp and he's always willing to hit a few licks on the rock for someone else's knife. There were times when I was a kid that I wondered if Dad's knife sharpening ability wasn't the reason I had the friends I did.

To be honest, Dad came by his talent honestly. If his family had a crest, it'd be a cedar stick and a Case knife. All the brothers (well, almost all) have fine knife collections and one brother even makes knives now. Every male above the age of five whittles and Great-Uncle Charles carves. [There is a BIG difference. Never ask someone who is whittling what he's making. You'll just show your ignorance.] The ground at our family get togethers looks like a carnival midway covered in sawdust. It's just what we do.

At least it's what THEY do. Though I enjoy the occasional whittle and I have a nice collection of knives (my German Eye copperhead is my pride and joy), I've always depended on Dad to keep them in good shape. Though Dad is an ace, he never saw fit to pass that skill along. Hence, I've remained dependent on him. I don't think it was a conspiracy on his part; it's just how things worked out. Tuesday, though, I found myself in Hartselle, AL and I happened to stop at J and P Earnest Cutlery -- one of the grandest knife stores I've ever been in. Though I had no need, or even real desire, for a new knife, it just seemed like an opportunity for a blast from the past. Sure enough, I roamed the counters for half an hour or more just looking at beautiful knives. Finally, I spotted the whetrocks.

I don't know why, but I decided that I NEEDED a rock. I haven't been "home" in a while and Dad has had some health problems this year, so it just seemed like I needed to get myself a whetrock. I can't explain it, but I knew I had to buy one. Karma, kismet, fate, whatever you want to call it, I left with a 4-inch "soft Arkansas" stone in a cedar holding box. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but I took it home and decided to try my hand at honing. Much to my surprise, I was able to get a "shaving edge" on my Case muskrat in just a few minutes. Mind you, I'm not saying I'm at the Pa Caffeine level, but it just made me think of Dad and what a genuinely good guy he is. In fact, I think I may now go visit the folks this weekend. It's funny how little things remind us of the bigger things, no?

Anyway, just wanted to talk about my dad for a while. Oh, those of you who know Dad, please do not tell him about this. First off, the Caffeine family does not go in for emotion and mush. Secondly, I DO NOT want the Caffeine folks to know about my blog as I'm sure I'll need to vent about how my family is driving me crazy at some point. So please help me keep this my safe haven.

P.S. Thailand Jeff, this may not be a "normal" story, but I think it meets your request to abstain, for a day, from the "I'm a lunatic" stories.

I wanted COFFEE,

not some candied liquid crap with a hint of coffee flavor!

Y'all know my feelings about flavored coffee (or at least you do now), but my strict standards were subverted yesterday at Lagniappe's Coffee Cafe here in Decatur. I stopped to deposit my paycheck and, as usual, I decided to go just down the street and treat myself to an afternoon cup of joe.

I knew I was in trouble when I walked in. The person behind the counter appeared to be a 16 (at most) year old boy with a bright green NERD t-shirt -- not a good sign. Still, all I wanted was a cup of coffee! I placed my order and the young man filled my cup and took my money. Out of curiosity, I glanced at the board and saw that the "coffee of the day" was Sumatra -- yummy.

Anyway, I went back to the car and headed home without tasting the coffee as it's usually too hot to drink fresh out of the air pot. As I drove home, though, I began to suspect something was amiss. I was almost sure that I could smell a flavor wafting out of the cup. Still, I figured it might just be secondary flavors from the shop. So I got home, fed the cats (including the porch cat), and sat on the porch swing to enjoy my coffee and read the paper. Then I tasted the coffee! YUCK! I don't know what the flavor was, but it was NOT regular old Sumatran coffee. I was so mad, I could have chewed nails and spit barbed wire. I was not, though, mad enough to go all the way back to Lagniappe's.

No, I poured out the coffee and learned a lesson -- always taste the coffee at the shop, especially if it's served by a teenager in a NERD t-shirt!

BTW, where are you "anonymous"? We were having coffee today, no? Super busy, so blogging will be light the rest of the week. I know y'all are disappointed.

The Farm

After the Halloween party Saturday night, I saw an interesting Tennesseean article on The Farm.

For those of you who don't know, The Farm is a modern day experiment in communal living going on right outside Summertown, TN. The Farm was started in 1971 by one Stephen Gaskin and its prominence has waxed and waned over the years. As a kid I remember two things about The Farm:

1. National Geographic once did a feature on The Farm's midwives.
2. Charles Manson supposedly wanted to go live there if he ever got out of jail.

Those two memories provide very different perspectives on The Farm, but that's kind of how most people felt about the hippie commune out in the middle of nowhere. Where did they come from? Well, in the words of The Farm's official history:

In 1966, a young assistant professor at San Francisco State College began scheduling classes to talk about what was happening outside his window. The classes grew too large for the college halls, so the class moved to a church, a theater, and then, in 1969, to the Family Dog, Chet Helms' rock hall on the coast. Monday Night Class became a weekly pilgrimage of throngs of hippies from up and down the coast ... At the center of this psychedelic crucible, the professor in the welder's hood, was 31-year-old Stephen Gaskin, known simply to most hippies as "Stephen."

This psychedelic crucible eventually landed in Summertown because, "The Farm soon found that Tennessee laws were hospitable to unconventional religions. All that was required to become a church was a preacher and a congregation and the Farm had both."

As a child I recall that residents of The Farm were, understandably, viewed with some suspicion. The "smelly hippies" were just strange. Still, the general attitude seemed to be one of live and let live. We didn't bother them and they didn't bother us. Over the years I'd heard that The Farm was in trouble, so I was sort of pleasantly surprised to see that it's still around. What really caught my attention in the article, though, were the changes The Farm has had to go through over the years.

But communal living caused problems. People were inclined to do the kind of work they wanted, even if experimenting with alternative energy sources "wasn't putting bread and butter on the table,'' [Farm resident] Holzapfel said.

In the early days, you could do maintenance on farm equipment one week and grow mushrooms the next. That led to inefficiencies and jobs being done by people who weren't necessarily good at them, Holzapfel said.

I try and try again to explain the benefits of specialization and division of labor to my econ classes, but I don't know that I've ever seen a better explanation. Here is a group of people who tried to live outside the "capitalist system" and they now recognize the difficulties in an unorganized society. No, I'm not arguing that the "free market" is the only way to organize production, but it is a darned efficient way to figure out who should be working on farm equipment and who should be growing mushrooms.

Further, Farm residents now realize there really is no such thing as a free lunch: "A school founded in the commune's early days now charges tuition." Plus, they've even outsourced a lot of the actual production for the communal businesses that remain.

Farm resident Frank Michael believes the evolution of The Farm was inevitable. Why? Because they got older.

Michael believes the progression was natural -- as people got older, they wanted homes and spouses and children. They didn't want to stay up until 3 a.m. discussing how to change the world.

"We didn't account for the fact we were going to get older,'' Michael said.

So, is it impossible to have higher ideals that exist outside the dominant paradigm? No, but I think it's also foolish to blindly adhere to those ideals as the reality around you changes. What's the end result?

We got a lot more practical, but we're still idealists,'' he [Michael] said.

So, I was glad to see The Farm is still alive and kicking. I was also glad to see that they've realized even communal societies need some method of organization and rationing. I just wish people would remember this when they talk about "pie in the sky" solutions to education and health care (for example) problems today.

Regardless, The Farm is a significant piece of U.S. social history from the last quarter of the 20th century AND it's still around AND it's nearby (for many of you). So, if you get a wild hair sometime, go pay them a visit. I've never been, but I'm going to try to go before it's too late. I figure I might learn something -- or at least it'll be an opportunity to make fun of the smelly hippies (a la Eric Cartman).