Checking my musing backlog (#1433)

Topics/tags: Meta-musings

As I mentioned recently, my list of prospective musings has grown much more quickly than my ability to finish them. In part, the first week of classes [1] inspired many musings. In part, class development has taken a surprising amount of time [2]. At this point, I’m no longer certain that I’ll be able to finish all of them. I certainly won’t be able to finish them all within the next few weeks.

As I was reflecting on what I might do about this issue—or at least what order I might approach the musings, my muse provided a strange suggestion. Why not write the first paragraph of each musing? Of course, I think she meant draft the first paragraph, since I will likely find myself changing them in the final version. I expect that she’ll encourage me to rewrite many of them.

I suppose that this exercise might be useful for another reason: It will give me the opportunity to reflect on how I write opening paragraphs. The musings provide me with more than the opportunities to share my views, puzzle through issues, and enjoy the writing process; they also encourage me to develop writing skills. Few things are better for developing intellectual skills than careful reflection on what you currently do and what needs improvement.

Here goes.

What happened to Michelle? Michelle passed away twenty-three months ago today. Rather than marking the anniversary as I often do, by describing my current state of mind and sharing some memories, I thought I’d share a different kind of story, a tale of the health issues that led to her passing. In part, I’m sharing because I want to remember, and I’ve already started to forget details, both minor and major. In part, I’m sharing because some people want to know. In part, I’m sharing because my muse insists that I share [3].

Updating my MacBook. As I suggested in a musing from a few weeks ago, I have three laptops. And, as I mentioned, I ended up with three laptops because my primary laptop was in the shop for around two months. Why three? Well, I had the broken one that I used as a desktop, but I needed one to take to campus. ITS didn’t have a loaner, so I bought a used one (a 2019 model for $400 or so). Now, I’m returning to my primary laptop. And it needs updating.

Judy Collins and Bruce Cockburn. A few months ago, I made the questionable decision to attend a concert by Judy Collins and Bruce Cockburn on the night before my first day of classes. Why would one consider the decision questionable? Among other things, the concert was in Des Moines, which is about an hour away; I teach my first class of the day at 8:00 a.m.; history suggests that I usually need the night before the first day of class to prepare; and I no longer function acceptably well on limited sleep. Still, opportunities to see Collins and Cockburn are few, and they are both artists I appreciate.

Blackberry Smoke. Although I went to Judy Collins and Bruce Cockburn on Thursday, August 27, I allowed a friend to convince me to see Blackberry Smoke on Friday, August 28. Although Blackberry Smoke is now celebrating 25 years as a band, I’ve never listened to them. From their name, I assumed they were a Bluegrass band, but learned they sit more in the Southern Rock or Hard Rock genres. My friend has great taste in music and had accompanied me to see Aimee Mann the previous month, so agreeing seemed appropriate.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Tim Curry passed away last week [4]. Strangely enough, I’d chosen the soundtrack to The Rocky Horror Picture Show as the Rebelsky Family Album of the Week a few days prior. I don’t have a lot to say about Tim Curry, other than that he was a great actor, and I loved him in RHPS, but my muse tells me that I have some things to say about the movie.

What was I thinking? This semester, I’m teaching three sections of Grinnell’s CSC-151, Functional Problem Solving. CSC-151 is our introductory course in computer science and computer programming and meets for three eighty-minute sessions per week. That makes my Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays fairly full. I also have about 72 students across the three sections. At least it’s only one prep! Still, with that workload, you’d think I’d make good decisions about course development. However, I’m not that sensible. As I have in many semesters, I decided to make significant changes to the course.

Getting accustomed to a new timetable. Last year, on the recommendation of the Curriculum Committee, the Grinnell Faculty voted to approve a new timetable for course meetings. If I recall correctly, the primary goal was to add more eighty-minute time slots, since those have become increasingly popular. And so, instead of MWF 8:30–9:50, 10:00–11:20, 1:00–2:20, and 2:30–3:50 timeslots for such classes, we now have 8:00–9:20, 9:30–10:50, 11:00–12:20, 1:10–2:30, and 2:40–4:00 timeslots. Our fifty-minute, 110-minute, and 170-minute morning time slots have not changed (much), and the afternoon ones have only shifted by ten minutes.

Retirement. The other day, I was chatting informally with some colleagues, and one mentioned that they were moving to Senior Faculty Status (SFS) soon. They also said that a surprisingly large number of faculty were either moving to SFS or retiring. They then asked me, Are you going on SFS soon? While I’ve thought about SFS and Retirement, I plan to teach full-time for a few more years, and I told them so. They encouraged me to accelerate my plans. I don’t think I will. However, it seems worthwhile to muse about those plans; as I’ve noted far too many times, I learn when I write and reflect.

AI-accelerated retirement. Although I don’t plan to retire—or, more precisely, move to Senior Faculty Status (SFS)—for at least five years, there are times my experiences with AI make me question those plans. At least two issues are at play: academic honesty and the role of AI in modern software development.

My purse. Back when my father was alive and an executive at Polaroid, he was well known for his bag choice. Rather than using a leather briefcase, like so many do, he carried a tan canvas shoulder bag with a brown leather flap. Here’s what his colleague, Bill McCune, said about it at Dad’s funeral.

Gail Pick, who was so fond of Rebel, reminded me recently that if he and I went off together to hear a grievance, I’d straighten my bow tie and Rebel would grab his purse and off we’d go.

Like my father, I now carry a purse. However, my purse is not at all like his. And I never thought of it as a purse until someone described it as such.

Inbox zero. Sometime this summer, I accidentally showed my inbox to my summer research students. They reacted with horror. Why? Well, as of yesterday, there were 152,978 messages in my Grinnell inbox, 99,214 unread. I’m not sure if it makes a difference, but they date back to July 1, 2021. What is that? 30,000 inbox messages per year, 20,000 unread? The terrifying part, at least to me, is that I regularly scan my mailbox and refile or delete messages. I just struggle to keep up.

Outlook woes. Last week, our Exchange server went down for nearly a day. I believe Grinnell was not alone in this issue. Having your email server down is frustrating, particularly now that many Web services handle logins through email to your account. Still, that’s something that happens from time to time. What frustrates me more is what happened after our server came back up.

Salaries. I’ve been thinking a lot about salaries these days. In part, it’s because my salary has an effect on when I retire (or at least go on SFS). In part, it’s because I remain frustrated about how my institution compensates (or fails to compensate) many staff members. (Of course, I’m not nearly as frustrated as the staff.) I’m not sure that I can do much about it. If I were a better person, I might consider following my father’s lead and refuse raises. For now, all I can do is write about it.

To sleep, perchance to dream. I love sleeping. It’s not just that my depression keeps me in bed. It’s that I appreciate the experience of being asleep, especially when I dream. Sometimes, I see Michelle in my dreams. That’s especially nice. Sometimes I have dreams about my teaching. Usually, those involve me screwing up something, perhaps many things. And sometimes I lie in bed, alternating between wakefulness and dreams, perhaps even affecting the dreams as I go.

The Faculty Handbook. Over the next eighteen months or so, Grinnell will be revising the Faculty Handbook. A small committee is taking the lead, including a consultant, the Dean, the Chair of the Faculty, and the Faculty Organization Committee. I wasn’t elected CoF, nor was I elected as Chair-Elect for the FOC. (Don’t worry; I don’t mind.) I didn’t run for Science Division rep to FOC because I thought a younger faculty member should have input. Hence, my role in the Handbook revision process will mostly involve providing comments when they are solicited. Nonetheless, I feel myself compelled to write a bit about the Handbook.

Rant about EasyChair [5]. This year, I’m serving as Program Co-Chair of SIGCSE Virtual 2026, the 2nd ACM Virtual Global Conference on Computing Education, or something like that. As Program Co-Chair, one of my responsibilities is to work with EasyChair, our conference submissions system. EasyChair is a few decades old, and shows its age at times. But I’d gotten used to it, or so I thought. Then I got to deal with the new process for XML generation. And, well, it’s a mess. Let me explain.

** _ To-do list._** As most readers know, I tend to overcommit. And I have a lot of things on my mind [6]. While I don’t follow the full Getting Things Done (GTD) protocol, I embrace the idea that writing down tasks helps clear your mind [7] and also that it helps you forget fewer important tasks. I’ve even found that Craft.do works well for me. An additional advantage of recording these to-do lists is that I can mine them for data and then complain about what I’ve done to myself. Today seems like a good day to do so.

Professor Mast. The other day, I was reading a Substack about Wendell Berry as writing teacher. Midway through the essay, I encountered this sentence.

At some point, I wrote a pithy little essay about body image, and Mr. Berry returned the paper with a C+ on it and a note that read: This is just good enough that I wish it were better.

That got me thinking about my courses with Gerald Mast, legendary film scholar. I took a lot of courses with Mast. Let’s see … ENGL-285, Sound Film Comedy, in the Autumn of 1984 (B-), ENGL-280, Introduction to Cinema 1, in Winter 1985 (also a B-), ENGL-280, Introduction to Cinema 2, in Spring 1985 (up to a B), and, finally, ENGL-486, The American Musical in Film and Theatre, in Winter 1986 (A). I thought I’d also taken Silent Film Comedy, but I seem to be mistaken.

Identifying as a schlub. Some time ago, I was talking to a writer friend about my musings. I can’t recall many of the details of our conversation, but my memory tells me he said something like, You often write something really nice and then you pretend to be a schlub. I’m not convinced that he used the word schlub, but it was something like that. He was also more articulate about the action of using a schlubbish voice. (Perhaps that’s an example of my schlubbish voice.) However, he was incorrect in his assessment. That is, I don’t adopt the identity of a schlub; I identify as a schlub.

Wicked. Back when Michelle started her MBA program, her advisor told her that she and I needed to set aside time for us as a couple. Among other things, that advice led us to purchase subscriptions to Des Moines Performing Arts. We bought four seats in the hope that some of the offspring would accompany us, or, failing that, that we’d find another couple to join us. We often ate at Roca beforehand. When Michelle got sick, we let the subscription lapse. A year or so after Michelle passed, a colleague asked if I’d be interested in subscribing to DMPA with them, since they knew I liked musicals. And so they, and I, and one other friend, ended up as Broadway (in Des Moines) Buddies.

Opening paragraphs. A few weeks ago, I reached such a backlog of musings that my muse compelled me to try something new: I wrote an introductory paragraph to each of the planned musings [7]. As I mentioned at the time, I hoped that I’d be able to use that sequence of introductory paragraphs as more than an opportunity to spew. In particular, I might learn something as a writer if I reflected on my introductory paragraphs, particularly my draft introductory paragraphs. I suppose I could have used the introductory paragraphs from the past twenty-or-so musings. However, having all the paragraphs in one spot seemed particularly useful. Let’s see what we might learn, either from those paragraphs or from other recent introductory paragraphs.

Checking my musing backlog. As I mentioned recently, my list of prospective musings has grown much more quickly than my ability to finish them. In part, the first week of classes inspired many musings. In part, class development has taken a surprising amount of time. At this point, I’m no longer certain that I’ll be able to finish all of them. I certainly won’t be able to finish all of them within the next few weeks.

Oh. Never mind, I’m posting that last one today.

That activity was surprisingly enjoyable. Also surprisingly painful. Enjoyable, because draft opening paragraphs seem to come easily to me [8]. Also because they gave me a short chance to reflect on each topic. And also because I enjoy writing—or at least whatever you call this activity in which I engage. Painful, because once I’ve written the first paragraph, I want to go on to the second, and third, and beyond. Everything but the last! I also find it painful, or at least troublesome, because one of the reasons I make lists is to put ideas aside to keep them from occupying too much brain space [9]. Now I have twenty or so topics once again competing for that space!

Did I learn things from putting together these paragraphs? As I’ve already written, that’s a question for another musing. [10]

[1] More precisely, the week that has three days of pre-class activities and two days of classes.

[2] I use the In part … In part … In part construction too frequently. I should find an alternative.

[3] My muse seems particularly active today.

[4] It may be longer than that by the time I post this musing.

[5] No, that’s not what I’m going to call it.

[6] This musing undoubtedly reinforces that latter point.

[7] That’s correct, it’s this musing. Isn’t mutual recursion wonderful?

[8] Perhaps that’s a sign that I need to think about them more carefully.

[9] I mentioned that in the introductory paragraph about to-do lists.

[10] More mutual recursion!

Version 1.0 of 2026-09-07.