orgasmic retribution fiber

I’ve been fighting a fever all day. Not much sleep last night and many weird dreams. The last words I remember from my last dream: “orgasmic retribution fiber.” I have no idea what it means, either.

And while we’re on the subject of surreal wordplay, I am saddened to learn that Dave Blood, bassist for the Dead Milkmen, has commited suicide. I can’t say I was ever a big fan, but the Dead Milkmen were the first band I ever interviewed back when I was a fledgling music journalist in Atlanta. Although I did a terrible job, and although they had a reputation for skewering morons, they were very kind to me, and I managed to write up an article that didn’t suck too badly.

Perhaps this isn’t a song Blood liked, but it’s one I think of whenever I hear of another suicide.

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roadtrip

With many of my colleagues from the four U of M campuses, I am in Columbia, Missouri this weekend attending the Teaching Renewal Conference as part of the year-long New Faculty Teaching Scholars Program. On the food front, I had a nice soy latte at the Lakota Coffee Company, some great slices at Shakespeare’s Pizza, and breakfast at Waffle House. We also managed to get in a few games of pool last night at Billiards.

Update: We also took a quick trip to the Rock Bridge Memorial State Park, home of the Devil’s Icebox, a geological formation caused by an underground river gradually eroding limestone until a sinkhole is created. Climbing down into the Icebox on a warm late-winter day, you find that the temperature drops significantly, a few patches of ice and snow are still present, and you can see your breath. On the drive out to Columbia, we saw a deer at the edge of a forest, and on the way home we spotted a flock of wild turkeys resting in a field. Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention the statue of Beetle Bailey to be found on campus; cartoonist Mort Walker is a Mizzou alum.

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it was many years ago today

Mike‘s not the only one. Today is my birthday, too. L and I had brunch at The Cup and Saucer, and we’ll have dinner at an undisclosed (to me) location.

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a day in the coffee shop

Slice o’ life. Free WiFi at Muddy’s Coffeehouse, next to campus. Reading Samuel Johnson for my course on eighteenth-century lit. Classic rock on the shop’s satellite radio: the Doors, Heart, Tom Petty, 38 Special, Fleetwood Mac, Steve Miller Band. Members of the KCMO Police Department Tactical Response Team come in for some java, playing air guitar. Light snow falling outside.

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bed-ridden

I never get sick. I can count on one had the number of times I’ve been sick in the last ten years. I’m like Bruce Willis in Unbreakable, only my invulnerability is focused on an unusually strong resistance to illness.

And yet, here I am in bed with a head full of gunk, spacy on cold medicine, trying to get my semester-prep work done along with other responsibilities.

Ugh.

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