I would not have thought, judging from last week, that just a few days later we’d be going in early, coming home late, and unable to catch up on sleep or work in-between. It’s difficult to feel quite human at times like these. Deep breaths, all around.
Erin
Imagine that you’re part of a committee that’s making a decision about whether to award an assistant professor tenure. Suppose there are two qualifications that she needs to have: 1) she has to be a good teacher and 2) she needs to have written a few good journal articles. One third of the committee members think that she is a good teacher but has not written good articles, one third think that she has written good articles but is not a good teacher, and one third think that she meets both qualifications. What decision do you think the committee should make?
That’s an example of what in the literature is known as a ‘discursive dilemma’.
Here’s a different kind of case. Suppose the lounge at your workplace is being renovated. Employees are asked for their opinions on what colours they want for the carpet and the walls. The options for carpet colours are burgundy, white, and cream. The options for the walls are white, ecru, and lavender. (In case you’re wondering, Erin came up with these colours — I thought I was reasonably good with colours, at least by male standards, but I had no idea what ecru was.) One quarter of the employees want burgundy for the carpet and white for the walls, one quarter want burgundy and ecru, one quarter white and lavender, and one quarter want cream and lavender. So, at the meeting called to decide these matters, the results of the votes are as follows:
Carpet colour:
burgundy – 50%
white – 25%
cream – 25%
Wall colour:
lavender – 50%
white – 25%
ecru – 25%
So it seems clear what should be done: install burgundy carpet and paint the walls lavender.
But, alas, burgundy and lavender clash horribly, as all the employees knew perfectly well. After all, notice that none of them wanted that particular combination.
So what should be done?
Sydney
Between yesterday and this morning I spent 8 solid hours in my office, having conferences with my students. This on top of the fact that Mondays and Tuesdays are the days when my own classes are scheduled, so that means a lot of time on campus, no time for my own work, and a lot of time grading late at night because the days were filled with classes or conferences.
Things went really well: my students and I got better introduced, and the whole dynamic of my class was quite different (and much improved) this morning. But am really tired and may need a nap before diving into my own work this afternoon.
Erin
We had a pleasantly brisk walk to class this morning, with the windchill around -15°F. Alas, we don’t seem to be getting that really essential part of winter: snow. It looks like the 2-4 feet of lake-effect snow is sliding by just north of us, perhaps giving us a meagre inch or two. What’s the point of cold without snow? We still have to go to class. On the plus side, I suppose we’ll be able to drive home tonight.
-Sydney
Once again I’m compelled to write because of something I read in The New York Times. The Sunday Magazine has a long article about “designer dogs.” This paragraph in particular caught my attention:
“Over the last decade, the industry has devised an almost Jetsonian, automated existence for our dogs, and the outpouring of products alone suggests how eager we have been to resolve a number of curious problems. Dogs can be attended by timed, refrigerated feeders and water fountains, monitored by Webcam or consoled through PetsCell cellular telephones around their necks. Cutout kitchen doggie doors were good, but new doggie doors — like the motorized Power Pet, triggered by a sensor in the dog’s collar — are better, since homeowners worried thieves might shimmy through. The Power Pet slides up and swiftly deadbolts shut again (“Your pet will think it’s on the Starship Enterprise!” the manufacturer claims), permitting dogs to safely exit and relieve themselves, perhaps on the specialty sod patches now replenished each week by delivery services. Small dogs are increasingly being litter-trained. Minefields of mildly electrified mats keep curious ones off of furniture.”
Delivered sod patches???
And then, of course, they have managed to unite the once incompatible realms of museum-style decorating and dog-loving: “Dedicated breeders have shrunk the Alaskan husky into a raccoonlike throw pillow, breeding it true and naming it the Alaskan Klee Kai.” You take the animal that Jack London famously followed through the northern wilderness and you turn it into a throw pillow?
Erin
“When I talk, it’s deliberate. When you talk, I wonder if it isn’t like birds, where they make sounds all day long in order to keep track of their group. When you make sounds I generally think it’s good, you’re letting me know everything’s okay. But then you hold me responsible for the things you say. You don’t really expect me to sit there all day and listen, do you?”
“When you’re frittering away time on the computer, is that a time when I can occasionally read a sentence aloud to you or ask you a question or something?”
“My reluctance comes from . . . well, forget delicacy: you have no sense of moderation. If you talk, it’s just a steady stream once you start . . . This happens all the time. When we’re in the car riding home from school and you start I’m like, ‘Whoah, I got hit now!'”
(You know which lines belong to Sydney and which to Erin)
Check out the rotating snakes. (You might want to read the warning first.)
Walking down the hall just before teaching the other day I suddenly ended up on my knees on the floor, bag, scarf, and coat flying everywhere. Slippery floors and morning traffic tracking in snow meant that I wiped out in the middle of a long hallway, right in front of one of my students. Nice to know I got to begin the semester with dignity. I consider it a miracle that I managed to repress curses and a sarcastic bow to the wide-eyed observers. Ah, well, what fun.
Erin
Alright, now that we’ve had a bit of winter, can we have spring? Actually, I’m quite happy with the snow and cold. What triggered the desire for springtime is receiving my seed catalogues and paging through them. I now have a rather severe case of the gardener’s disease that has as its primary symptom a desperate need to stick one’s fingers in some cool, moist dirt.
But the best I can do at this time of the year is make the seed orders and dream. I made the first order today, from a wonderful organization in Iowa called the Seed Savers Exchange. I used to be a listed member, i.e., a member that was listed in the annual directory as offering various seeds that I had saved. Going to college put a damper on that sort of activity. Anyway, I placed an order today. I think the most exciting thing I ordered was the Aunt Ruby’s German Green tomato.
It’s one of the best tasting tomatoes around. And I’ve tasted several dozen varieties, so I think I speak with some measure of authority. Though my authority pales compared to another member of SSE, also here in New York, who has tried over a thousand varieties. I think Erin is afraid that I will see this as my competition. Her fear is not entirely unfounded.
Erin’s favourite in the order is the Chinese forget-me-not.
We saw some lovely specimens in Cornell’s gardens last year, and so she wants to grow some of her own. (I’m trying my best to make working in dirt be an infectious activity.)
– Sydney
Alan Schmierer