Save Russ's Blog

I have caught wind of an unsettling rumor circulating throughout the interwebs. I just hope that it is not too late for us to take action. One of my favorite bloggists and political personalities, Russ Parker, after several months of silence has reportedly decided to officially pull the plug on his blogsite August 18, 2008.

Russ has blogged with great eloquence on such diverse topics as the war in Iraq, the passing of Kurt Vonnegut, yard signs, facebook groups, voting, voter registration, absentee voting, trails in Alabama, and the weather.

You can do your part to keep this behemoth of the blogosphere online!

Please visit Russ Parker's blogsite, read his posts, like what you read (you won't be able to help yourself), and leave your emphatic comments encouraging, begging, cajoling him to keep on blogging on (no threatening entreaties, please). We can only hope that the massive influx of comments will convince him to persist in the art and craft of blogging. Let your voice be heard, so that his may be read for weeks, months, and years to come.

Land of Yajeev readers unite!

From Keystone to Constitution

Two weeks ago, my wife, my dog, and I transported all of our worldly possessions from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Hartford, Connecticut in a high-speed (50ish mph) two-Honda Civic, one-Penske truck caravan across Pennsylvania, New York, and Connecticut.


With the help of an unexplainably high-spirited crew (including the wife's sister and brother-in-law-to-be, occasional blog commenter and devoted friend Andy, and two of the wife’s classmates (one current classmate, one former classmate accompanied by her husband—who graciously donated his time and strength to a couple of Pittsburghers he barely knew), we spent several hours dodging raindrops while lugging, maneuvering, forcing, wedging, wiggling, and finagling boxes, shelves, beds, dressers, couches, and televisions up two narrow, steep flights of stairs and through an unusually and frustratingly narrow front door to a then-un-air-conditioned third floor apartment. By the time all of our stuff had been forced through the entrance, the entire crew was thoroughly exhausted.

This was the easy part. We all went out to eat to celebrate the mass movement of stuff and got a good night’s sleep, and the next morning, Andy and I got into my car and returned to Pittsburgh, where I would attend the closing of the sale of our house, complete the microbiology course I taught at the community college, and officially submit the final version of my dissertation.

Stereotypical man that I am, I left the hard part (i.e. getting our new home in order) to the little lady, who was assisted for one more day by her sister and sister’s fiancé. (“No, dear, I insist: you stay in Connecticut with Watson and enjoy our new home, and I’ll work hard in Pittsburgh for one more week.”) The wife worked tirelessly for eight straight days of arranging, rearranging, cleaning, shopping, logisticating, assembling, while I spent my days working and nights and weekend, well, relaxing in a true yajeev-style vacation, chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool and all shooting some b-ball outside of the school (minus the b-ball part).

The first four nights were spent with Andy, who treated me to dinner at a different fancy (or fancyish) restaurant each evening. At night, we watched movies on DVD, played video games, watched funny video clips on YouTube, and listened to some sweet tunes. As I write this, I’m imagining a split-screen movie with my wife working to exhaustion on one side of the screen and me lounging on Andy’s couch popping cheddar chex mix into my mouth, guzzling diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, and laughing at Stephen Colbert on the other. The wife is Cinderella, and I the gluttonous evil stepsister.

These four glorious nights were just the prelude to the indulgence of the weekend that followed: Saturday and Sunday were spent with my folks, and the entirety of my waking hours was spent in a rapid-fire alternation of large meals and movies. When I awoke on Saturday, I ate breakfast, which was soon followed by lunch (we had a movie to catch, so these first two meals had to be compressed—though, not combined to brunch). Pops and I drove to the theater for the first movie of the day (I had nachos with cheese), after which we met my mother at Outback Steakhouse (where there are very few rules) for a filling dinner. Immediately after finishing our steaks (mine was crowned with blue cheese), we zoomed to the cineplex to catch movie number 2. I abstained from snacking during the second movie, as I had caught wind of a rumor (which later proved to be true) of an after-movie stop at Pizza Hut, where my father and I each ate our own P’zone (contrary to what some might tell you, they are delectable) as my mother watched in horror. Exhausted by the exertions of the day, Dad and I retired to the house for a cinematic nightcap: we watched a third movie, this one on DVD from the comfort of my parents’ den.

Sunday, traditionally a day of rest, was accordingly lower-key—only two large meals and two movies—and a visit with Grandma. While I rested in the Midwest on Sunday afternoon, the wife struggled in New England for several hours to assemble a bathroom storage unit (which I broke yesterday in one of the myriad careless flashes of coordinational ineptitude that serve to connect the otherwise mundane moments of my life).

This past Monday morning, after an exhausting week of leisure, I tied up the few remaining loose ends of my life in Pittsburgh, completed my final round of goodbyes, and hit the road. I arrived in Connecticut late Monday night to what no man deserves: an apartment lovingly and meticulously assembled and cleaned and (best of all) a wife and dog excited to see me.

We’ve spent much of this week acquainting ourselves with our new surroundings: exploring the city parks, checking out a few of the tourist attractions, and, most importantly, systematically surveying the local dining landscape. In the past four days, we’ve eaten at The Pantry (a heavenly breakfast, lunch, and dinner greasy spoon situated within easy walking distance from our apartment), a charming BAEYOB (bring and exchange your own books) library/coffee shop called La Paloma Sabanera (which I think is Spanish for Starbucks), an incredibly cute Laotian/Thai diner (where I ate my third delicious serving of Pad Thai in less than five days and an out-of-this-world fried flour-shell-banana-mango dessert), an upscale downtown after-work martini (and APPETIZERS) bar for which my wife and I were shamelessly underdressed (but we enjoyed it just the same), pizza delivered from an upstart joint called Domino’s, the Red Rock Hartford Tavern (an independent bar and grille), a van parked by the capital building serving Chinese food, and a little place I like to call (pseudo) Mexican Heaven (Taco Bell--we've been there twice).

The most wonderful aspect of our new home is the plethora of Dunkin Donuts, apparently the primary source of nutrition of New England. En route to our closest Wal-Mart (less than two miles from our apartment), there are at least 4 Dunkin Donuts to choose from.


Lest you think my new Connecticutian life consists of one giant vat of donutty laze, I will have you know that I have contributed to the upkeep (if not the setup) of our new Hartford home: yesterday, I completed two loads of laundry and I washed the dishes—by hand—and I’ve checked the mail almost every day!

The Unofficial My Friend's Friend's Brother-in-Law Ben Fan Club

It only took about five minutes into last week's premiere episode of "I Survived a Japanese Gameshow", ABC's latest foray into reality television, for me to know that this was no Banzai (history's finest in Japanese- American entertainment). This show was too much reality and not enough Japanese gameshow.

I had all but written it off when I learned that one of the nine remaining contestants, Ben, is the brother-in-law of a close friend of a close friend. I also discovered that Ben is the official handler of Punxsutawny Phil--that's right the most famous groundhog in all of Pennsylvania who, based on the sighting of his own shadow, prognosticated six extra weeks of winter this year.



Re-energized by the prospect of a brother-in-law of a friend of a friend appearing on (inter?) national reality television donning nothing more than a giant diaper and bib, I re-committed to the show--in fact, I nearly transformed the Land of Yajeev to a My Friend's Friend's Brother-in-Law Ben Fansite, posting weekly BenWatch updates and opening a forum for readers to discuss the latest Ben gossip and submit their cell-phone-camera-snapped candid photos of Ben on the street.




The wife and I tuned in to tonight's second episode, eager for the extravaBENza. We were disappointed to see, in the first few moments of this week's installment, a tearful Ben tell the camera that he felt "sick". A minute later, the show's host was explaining to the other contestants that after Ben had fallen ill, he been taken to a hospital and would be leaving the show.

That was it: in a mere five minutes, my love affair with a reality television show and its woodchuck-handling contestant was over. Unless I hear word that Ben is making his dramatic return to the show, I'm afraid I've seen my last of this summer's guilty pleasure.

Ben, if you're reading this, I want you to know that while your stint/stunt on this show may have been cut short by unforeseen Asian maladies, my admiration and support for you will not cease. Thanks for the (really, really brief) memories.












Readers may demonstrate solidarity in their pro-Benness by indicating in the comments section that they'd like to join the unofficial Ben fan club.

Retraction

While at least one reader has demanded a retraction for my last post , another has brought to my attention the fact that the content of another recent post has been exposed as a hoax.

Reader Kathy emailed me the following:

I'm sorry to tell you that the 'lost' tribe are not new readers for Yajeev. They've been found since 1910 and if they haven't found the Land of Yajeev by now, well, it's time for a new advertising strategy!

I've been bambooozled and have, in my zeal, propagated the bamboozledness to the Land of Yajeev readership, and for that, I am very sorry. To read about the hoax that shook cyberspace, click here.

I also extend my sincerest regrets to the heretofore presumed-to-be-uncontacted tribesmen and tribeswomen. If you reply to this post with a valid Amazonian jungle address, I'll send down a coupla Land of Yajeev t-shirts. You're going to like the way you look in them. I guarantee it.


... on a separate note, the course I am teaching is drawing to a close, my wife and dog have officially moved to Connecticut, and I am soon to follow... as are several posts which are already written in my head (as my dad would say) ... I'm forecasting a surge in postages. No promises. Just predictions.

Stock Boy

Tonight, I overheard the nice teenage boy who rented me skates at the ice rink tell his co-worker of about the same age, "No, seriously, I want to be a famous stock broker when I grow up."

Poor kid's setting himself up for a life of disappointment. He should set his sights on something a little more realistic. Like becoming President of the United States. Or hitting the Powerball. Or curing cancer. Or brokering world peace. Or simultaneously determining a particle's position and velocity.

But a famous stock broker? I mean, has there ever been such a thing?

I considered giving the young man a healthy dose of reality but thought better of it. A boy should to be free to dream.

Big Russ

Your very Russertness will continue to inspire.

You've gone to meet that giant press in the sky. May you rest in peace.



Tim Russert, 1950 - 2008









(feel free to leave your favorite or most meaningful Russert memories in the comment section)


UPDATE: I recommend this tribute by Velvet Sacks.

Morsels

My apologies for the blog-drought of late. I don't expect this to satisfy my readers starving for yajeev wit and wisdom, but I leave you with an inspirational quote and a link.

The mental benefits of exercise are all in your head.

-Father of Yajeev (a la Yogi)


Click here to read a post about the one of the blogosphere's most opinionated and dictatorial contributors who seems to have gone dark of late. I've been meaning to share this link for some time. I'm told an update may be in the offing.

Teacher's (so late it was) Early Retirement

Last night, I did something that I never had to do in high school, college, or graduate school. I've only ever done it while wreaking havoc at childhood birthday parties, playing video games with my wife, or waiting in line for free chicken. I've done it in the past because I wanted to--never because there was work that actually had to be done.

I pulled an all-nighter.

Even though I don't teach until tomorrow, I stayed up to finish preparing my lectures for the week, grading and recording scores of exams and lab reports, and writing quizzes (I had been working on these since Friday morning). By the time I went to bed, the birds had begun chirping and the sky had already turned from pitch black to a terrifying shade of royal blue. It was 5:00 am, exactly 24 hours from the moment I would wake up to get ready for school on Tuesday morning-- a depressing realization. I considered staying awake for as long as I could, extending Sunday until I was no longer able to keep my eyes open-- and then going to sleep until Tuesday-- just forgetting about Monday altogether.

I did slept for a few hours, got up, initiated the caffeine drip that has lasted until about thirty minutes ago, walked the dog, did some laundry and dishes, and worked again until now (9:22 pm).

Actually teaching this class is a lot of fun. Preparing for the class is like running a marathon every weekend.

When I began writing this post, I am sure there was some sort of punchline I had in mind... but, between then and now, I have become bleary eyed and forgetful. Goodnight.

Welcome, new readers!

I learned yesterday via CNN that a tribe of Amazonian natives never before contacted by the outside world has been spotted and photographed by passengers in a small airplane flying over their thatched-hut community. The survival of this village is threatened by expansion of the a burgeoning illegal logging industry.

The indigenous Brazilians, mostly painted orange (one seemed to be painted gray) seem to have interpreted the flyover as a potential threat, brandishing bows and arrows, spears, and what appeared to be giant spit ball shooters at their aerial observers.

For better or for worse, I suspect that these tribesmen and tribeswomen will soon be exposed to the technology and advancements of the so-called "developed world". And, when they are introduced to the likes of the Chick Fil A chicken sandwich, underwear, Lost on ABC, Cedar Point roller coasters, the wheel, surely there will be no turning back to their old way of life (they'll have to tune in each week to see if the Losties finally get off the island). And, before long, they will certainly stumble across this great world wide web of communication I like to call the Bloggernet.

My goal is to make this blog as interesting and accessible for as wide an audience as possible, including the previously uncontacted. Because, beneath our clothing or protective gourds, we're all people with similar hopes and fears, frustrations and dreams. We all want to be loved. We all have the same experience of trying to pick the quickest line at the grocery store and having to wait as the customer ahead of us with eight items or less waits for a price check on their Kikkoman Soy Sauce or fruitlessly searches their purse or wallet for coupons they just know they couldn't have left at home. We've all had that dream of showing up for class on the day of the final exam naked (or gourdless) and having forgotten to study.

Orange-painted spear-wielding aborigines, may I be the first to officially welcome you to the blogosphere! I hope you'll find the Land of Yajeev to be your online home away from home! Please check out the archives for older posts and feel free to leave your comments whenever you feel so moved.

photos by Funai-Frente de Protecao Etno-Ambiental Envira via Reuters via MSNBC.com

Teacher's Pet

Last week, I began teaching a 6-week microbiology course at one of our local community colleges. This is the first course that I am in charge of from beginning to end. The lectures, the labs, the assignments, the quizzes (bwa ha ha!) , the exams (double bwa ha ha!!)... all mine. The class meets just two days a week from 8:45 am until 3:30 pm. It's a grueling day for student and teacher alike.

I know it's asking a lot of my students to learn all of the material normally presented over the course of an entire three-to-four-month semester in six weeks. It may be asking even more of me to plan, create, and teach such a course. I have literally spent almost every waking (non-eating) moment in the past week writing lectures and quizzes and exams and lab outlines (which explains the recent dearth of fresh bloggage and chattage)... And, don't tell my boss (or my students!), but even though I am a yeast microbiologist by trade, I have never taken a microbiology course in all my days. So, I am learning with my pupils.

Teaching at a community college presents some special challenges. As one professor kindly stated, "Our students are the bottom 50% of the bottom 50%." Which is to say the bottom 25%. As it turns out, this is not entirely true. The ability and motivation range of my students is huge, and I am already impressed by the dedication of some of my students who have faced a great deal of life challenges in their few years. Some have strongly disadvantaged backgrounds, in terms of material upbringing and education ("My favorite part of today's lecture was the part about DNA," one student told me enthusiastically. "Because I haven't ever heard of it before.")

Per my wife's recommendation, on the first day of class, I had my students fill out a "student interest form" with questions like:

Why are you taking this course?
What topics in microbiology are you interested in?
What other biology classes have you taken?
What other time commitments will you have over the next 6 weeks?
What grade do you plan to achieve in this course?
What are your interests and hobbies?
Below please give any other information that you feel would be important or helpful for me to know as your instructor.

None of my students answered the first question by writing, "To satisfy an enduring passion for microbes." Most answers were along the lines of, "Because I have to."

Most of my students (including the one who had never heard of DNA) are aspiring nurses completing a pre-nursing Associates Degree, and this is their final required biology course at the community college. A few are students from local colleges and universities fulfilling a core requirement for their particular undergraduate degree programs or picking up a course which they hope will help them get into medical school. Most at least hope for success in this class-- nearly all wrote "A" or "B" in response to the question, "What grade do you plan to achieve in this course?"

I could tell from the very first hour that one student, however, was special. His reply to the anticipated grade question: "C is for continue."

When asked to provide any other information that might be helpful to me as an instructor, two students informed me that English is not their first language. This is certainly helpful for me as an instructor. Others told me about their time commitments and potential conflicts (like picking their kids up after school or working at the Olive Garden). A couple told me that they struggle to learn but would try their hardest (one has admirably lived up to his commitment thus far, the other I doubt ever truly intended to).

My special student, Mr. C is for Continue, wrote the following helpful information (/warning/threat): "Here at Local Community College our instructors get evaluations from their students EVERY [triple underlined] semester!"

So I better be on my very best behavior.

A few minutes into class on the second day, Mr. C is for Continue announced, unsolicited, that there was no way he was going to remain in class after the final exam on the last day of school (which was still five weeks away), assuming, unjustifiably, that I would (a) suspend my attendance policy on the last day of school and (b) give the exam first thing in the morning.

Taking notes has become tiresome for Mr. C is for Continue (I lecture from PowerPoint slides that I have printed out for my students with blanks for them to fill in--usually a few words per slide), so I am now being tape-recorded for posterity and Mr. C is for Continue's study purposes.

By the third day of class (yesterday), Mr. C is for Continue had begun participating and asking questions. And his performance on the first two quizzes (yes, I give quizzes every single day, can you believe it?!) are surpassing even his expectations (B is for Better than a C?). (To those who fear I am a pushover, I have a handful of quiz grades to establish otherwise.)

Tomorrow is the first exam or, as one of my college professors would call it, the semester's first celebration of knowledge. I am looking forward to it. My students are not. I am offering extra credit for students who will write a poem about microorganisms.

Maybe I am a sadist, but I love writing quizzes and exams. I don't write trick questions, but I do amuse myself by including funny options in multiple choice questions.

Here are a few of my favorites for your self-testing pleasure:

1. How long have microorganisms been on this planet?
a. 3.5 billion years
b. 3.5 million years
c. 350,000 years
d. since Tuesday when this class began

2. Which of the following is NOT a member of Eukarya?
a. Algae
b. Fungi
c. Humans
d. Protozoa
e. Actually, all of the above are members of Eukarya, but thanks for asking.

3. Who is credited with initiating a trend towards aseptic technique in a clinical setting?
a. Ernst Abbé
b. Anton van Leeuwenhoek
c. Joseph Lister
d. Robert Koch
e. Carl von Linnaeus
f. Professor Yajeev

4. Who is credited with initiating a trend toward aseptic technique in the lab for this class?
a. Ernst Abbé
b. Anton van Leeuwenhoek
c. Joseph Lister
d. Robert Koch
e. Carl von Linnaeus
f. Professor Yajeev
(That was supposed to be an easy one, but a few of my students failed to see the humor in it.)


Here are a few from the True or False section:

5. Aseptic technique is so outdated. It’s not as if I should treat every microorganism in the microbiology lab as if it were a pathogen. Please.

6. Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) is alive.

7. The agent that causes Mad Cow Disease is alive.

8. I am alive. The “I” in this sentence is the test-taker reading it, not the professor writing it.


Don't worry, though. There are plenty (and I do mean plenty) of other questions that are not funny, ironic, or cutesy. However, as promised, tomorrow's exam concludes as follow:

Bonus:
Please write a poem about some thing(s) you learned in this class. The poem does not have to rhyme. The poem must be at least 5 lines long. You must use at least 4 names or words specifically associated with this class to receive credit. Please underline those words. While all scientific facts included should be accurate, the poem does not have to be completely scientific in nature—it can represent the innermost thoughts and feelings you’ve always had or have just developed for some topic microbiological in nature but have been afraid to express—until now. Your instructor will provide you with extra paper, should you find it necessary.

If any of my readers feel so inspired, feel free to compose your own ode to bacteria in the comments section or email them to me at landofyajeev @ hotmail . com