In honor of this weekend's travels

The Map

Land lies in water; it is shadowed green.
Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges
showing the line of long sea-weeded ledges
where weeds hang to the simple blue from green.

Or does the land lean down to lift the sea from under,

drawing it unperturbed around itself?
Along the fine tan sandy shelf
is the land tugging at the sea from under?

The shadow of Newfoundland lies flat and still.
Labrador's yellow, where the moony Eskimo
has oiled it. We can stroke these lovely bays,
under a glass as if they were expected to blossom,
or as if to provide a clean cage for invisible fish.
The names of seashore towns run out to sea,
the names of cities cross the neighboring mountains
-the printer here experiencing the same excitement
as when emotion too far exceeds its cause.
These peninsulas take the water between thumb and finger
like women feeling for the smoothness of yard-goods.

Mapped waters are more quiet than the land is,
lending the land their waves' own conformation:
and Norway's hare runs south in agitation,
profiles investigate the sea, where land is.
Are they assigned, or can the countries pick their colors?
-What suits the character or the native waters best.
Topography displays no favorites; North's as near as West.
More delicate than the historians' are the map-makers' colors.

Elizabeth Bishop



Unrelated - attended Cherry Blossoms yesterday.

An Education

I highly recommend this article in last week's New York Review of Books, Our Universities: How Bad? How Good? by Peter Brooks.

Gen and I are both "faculty brats" who benefited from growing up in and around dynamic college towns and we both attended the sorts of universities who many, including the authors whose books this article is reviewing, have begun to decry as simply not worth the price tag. We were also both generalists, taking various courses in the social sciences but also dappling into more random realms (ahhh yes, "The Big Bang and Beyond"), who avoided a clear pre-professional academic curriculum and completed hefty research thesis which led to us both having library breakdowns around 3 am. Come to think of it, basically our only major college persona differences were that I attracted the boys like honey, spent a year in France, and cheered for a winning athletic team, and poor Gen could never score dates to his formals, spent 4 years ripping on all things French, and never saw the Tigers win a game.

Anyhow, we've talked at length about the benefits and shortcomings of those experiences, particularly now that we have the perspectives from being a few years out (Most notably, Gen now dreams of visiting Paris, kisses people in greeting, and says "Sacre bleu!" whenever he's excited), and are aware of what a major role financial assistance played for both of us. We're also both fascinated by these trends against intellectualism, against a perceived "elitism," and separately, towards corporatism, present in the US psyche - trends which this author evokes strongly in critiquing the position that some have taken of blaming universities' failings on tenured faculty and in calling for an end to the classic liberal arts education.

I found this to be a really strong piece and agree wholeheartedly with much of the author's general take.



Excerpt (although many other points in rest of article):

"To me, the university is a precious and fragile institution, one that lives with crisis—since education, like psychoanalysis, is an “impossible profession”—but at its best thrives on it. It has endured through many transformations of ideology and purpose, but at its best remained faithful to a vision of disinterested pursuit and transmission of knowledge. Research and teaching have always cohabited: anyone who teaches a subject well wants to know more about it, and when she knows more, to impart that knowledge. Universities when true to themselves have always been places that harbor recondite subjects of little immediate utility—places where you can study hieroglyphics and Coptic as well as string theory and the habits of lemmings—places half in and half out of the world. No country needs that more than the US, where the pragmatic has always dominated.

I am not so much impressed by the faults and failings of the university—they are real enough, but largely the product of frightening trends toward inequality in American society that the universities can combat only to a limited degree. It’s more the survival of the university that amazes and concerns me. It’s one of the best things we’ve got, and at times—as when reading these books—it almost seems to me better than what we deserve. I will succumb here to a temptation (expecting that I’ll be ridiculed by Hacker and Dreifus) of quoting Henry James, at the moment his character Nick Dormer, in The Tragic Muse, who has sacrificed a career in politics to pursue a vocation as a painter, stands before a set of great portraits in London’s National Gallery:

As he stood before them the perfection of their survival often struck him as the supreme eloquence, the virtue that included all others, thanks to the language of art, the richest and most universal. Empires and systems and conquests had rolled over the globe and every kind of greatness had risen and passed away, but the beauty of the great pictures had known nothing of death or change, and the tragic centuries had only sweetened their freshness.

Universities are not so isolated from the tragic past, but they still make a claim to speak with eloquence across the centuries. They often fail, they need reform and course correction, but they are not, at their best, merely venal and self-serving. They deserve better critics than they have got at present."

Finally, what does it say about my education that I am in my mid twenties and love this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Od7U9GhZg_g&feature=player_embedded

(Jette sent it to us with the subject line: "oh hey gen and nadia at the pool." sigh. got jokes J.)

"Well, this piece is called Lick My Love Pump"

Watched This is Spinal Tap for the first time this weekend. Unquestionably, AMAZING. Thus, in homage...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NeGteg74mjw

[still don't know how to post videos... Zach?!]

PS: The problem with a joint blog is being associated with opinions expressed in your evil genius co-blogger's posts. Let the record state that I completely disagree with his characterization of Belgium below.

PPS: French elections results are in...

Not sure how the Butler/Uconn game got these wheels turning...

Just finished this piece in an old New Yorker (Nadia: 2, Nightstand Reading Stack: 143). Curious what my co-blogger will think from the vantage point of someone studying concepts of leadership and incentives in B school.... [or whatever it was you were reading on my futon in those ginormous, densely titled textbooks this weekend when you should have been reading from this book so that next time you make jambalaya, my apartment doesn't smell like the bayou for the next 3 weeks...grumble grumble grumble]

Basically, in very short sum, Mo Ibrahim, founder of Africa’s first, big cell phone company, created a prize of $5 mill paid out over 10 years (with a 200,000 annual stipend to follow) to award African heads of state who demonstrated excellence in leadership and left their position when their term was up. His general reasoning is that African political systems have been plagued by corruption, dreadful leaders, who stayed in power enitrely too long, don't feel compelled to leave, and in response Ibrahim sought to create an incentive for improved governance and for leaders to actually depart when their term ends. Rulers are evaluated based on an African governance index designed by Bob Rotberg at the Kennedy School.

The awards been praised for simply raising awareness about governance in Africa and prompting a discussion on strengthening leadership. The Kennedy School touts the index as an important step towards “objective data” (versus say for example the World Bankgs Worldwide Governance Indicators which Rotberg has characterized as too “subjective. “)

On the other hand, detractors have noted that the award is simply rewarding someone for doing their job, it’s elitist in that it goes to the powerful but doesn’t directly benefit bureaucrats, citizens, etc. and perhaps, even more obvious, this money is peanuts compared to the funds a despotic ruler can acquire by staying in power and pillaging natural resources and state treasuries.

Further, Ibrahim’s index itself is criticized by others as weighing some factors too heavily (e.g. safety and security) that don’t necessarily correlate adequately to good governance (last year, Tunisia was the 8^th best governed state in Africa and Egypt the 9^th). There’s also that other big question about rewarding a leader based on measuring the state of affairs rather than his/her actual performance. not to mention, the whole rationale behind the financial incentive strikes me as a bit bogus – effective leaders are really incapable of identifying alternative lucrative options on their own once their term ends...?

Regardless, clearly, if some random billionaire wants to fund prizes, most people aren’t going to stop them. Which then had me asking myself -- what will I fund once Jette makes us filthy rich?

Anyways, good read and I’m really curious to read more about the index and how it was conceived beyond what this article says –like are these factors assessing what the government should be delivering from the point of view of citizens or assessing what citizens want according to Harvard professors. You also have to wonder about the data collection of the indicators – are they based on perception (e.g. do you feel safe) or hard facts (e.g. crime stats) and if it’s the latter, who is reporting the final tally of things like homicides in each country - is it the central government? Because I mean, if Baltimore cooks the books favorably, I wouldn’t be surprised if Kigali does (Thank you David Simon for my first real lesson in corruption)… AND I kept wondering is Sirleaf eventually going to win this being an HKS grad and all…. so many questions!

ooooh and it’s also interesting to note that the Ibrahim Foundation didn’t give it out last year for lack of deserving candidates.

i promise to abdicate if you give me all your thingamabobs and whatsits galore

If Republican Presidential Hopefuls Were Foreign Countries...

So I received enough notices of readership (four) on my prior entry comparing basketball coaches to poets, that I thought I should let this concept ride while I'm still hot. Also, I'm already uncomfortable with the size of my readership so I figure I would go ahead and alienate you all by writing about politics, peripherally of course. This is more irreverent than anything.

But seriously, if you know me politically, you know that I'm a Democrat who up until March 2008 still considered voting for McCain ("because I wanted to keep an open mind") and someone who is generally more fascinated by the "leaders" of the Republican Party than those of the Democrats. I think a lot of this fascination comes about because so much of the Republican rhetoric and policy to come out recently is so extreme (at least to my sensibilities), that I just can't help but get a deer in the headlights look and read/digest as much information as I can about them to figure out what makes the 2011 Republican Party tick. Therefore, in 2011 and 2012 I will probably follow the Republican primaries more closely than any other domestic political event, and that's saying something.

So without further ado, I present to you my newest entry comparing Republican presidential hopefuls to foreign countries. And no, my Republican friends, the comparison of these individuals to countries is not meant as an attack on their patriotism or place of birth. I will continue to leave that futile battle to you with Barrack Hussein Obama.


Tim Pawlenty: The sheer difficulty of trying to find something to say about Gov. Pawlenty of Minnesota evokes Belgium, a nice place that has given us... well, chocolate, beer, moules et frites, and the first tri-color flag in Europe (bow down, France!). Quietly however, Belgium has also seen increased internal strife due to the Flemish-Wallonian rivalry, resulting in the lamest sectarian strife outside of the Quad Cities in Iowa. The secret hatred between Flanders and Wallonia also mirrors the bizarre Minnesota versus Wisconsin rivalry, which only seems to rear its ugly head during the NFL season when the Packers play the Vikings. Lastly, despite Belgium's small size, her prime location in the heart of Western Europe has made Brussells a popular site for international commerce and treaties. In much the same way, Pawlenty's hometown of Minneapolis was a featured part of the 2008 GOP Presidential Convention, one of the watershed moments in Republican history this century thanks to the introduction of Sarah Palin on a national stage.





Mitch Daniels: Perhaps the most obscure nation in the Middle East, Oman is relatively moderate, relatively turmoil-free, relatively prosperous, and relatively educated. Gov. Mitch Daniels of Indiana is moderately wealthy (for a Republican), tends to champion less-conservative positions than his peers, is in a less precarious position than neighbors Wisconsin (politically) and Michigan (economically), and spent his education at Princeton on marijuana and acid in the 1970’s, so he probably got something out of it academically relative to his peers, but not as much as he could have. Like Oman, we know that there are obvious drawbacks with Daniels, well, all of us who know about Daniels to begin with. Like Oman, Daniels relies heavily on one asset (oil, delivering a battleground swing state), and it is the presence of that asset that keeps Oman above the likes of embattled Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker. This makes Walker Yemen.

The Tea Party: A vastly overrated source of presidential primary power, The Tea Party and all it stands for is the Russia of the Republican presidential primary. Russia has some obvious strengths -- oil, a semi-functioning millitary, patriotic bravado -- and so does the Tea Party, which campaigns relentlessly and no doubt was the primary factor that helped launch the Republicans into control of the House of Representatives. Of course, the Tea Party did so while being mediocre at everything else, just like Russia can bully anybody in its sphere, yet remains a hollow giant thanks to public corruption, growing economic disparity, a terrible health crisis, rampant alcoholism, declining population and all sorts of other related post-Communist problems. But like a Soviet tank rolling unchallenged through the Caucasus, the Tea Party (and its dedicated devotees) are not going to let anyone forget how powerful they are. The obvious corollary here is that the Libertarian Party is Georgia and the various splinter groups of the Tea Party form South Ossetia.



Nashi as a foil for the Tea Party? NOBAMA!! DON’T TREAD ON ME!













John Boehner: I'm not creative enough to avoid the joke about Boehner being Ireland, and you can all see and have probably heard of the conneciton there. However, there's more than the bottle of scotch, there's the subtlety of Boehner’s skill set: like Ireland, Boehner has some really useful qualities and credentials, it's a tragic element to his character that will likely prevent everything from coming together for a presidential push. And now, like the busted and broke Celtic Tiger, it looks like Boehner’s chance at greater prominence is gone.








The Paul Family: While so much was going wrong for everyone else from 2008-2010, Greenland actually turned in a hell of a run, thank you very much. Similarly, Rand and Ron Paul, previously unheralded and dismissed, emerged out of nowhere to steal the mantles of both the Libertarian Party and the Tea Party movement, and become LEGITIMATE presidential hopefuls by 2011. The complete meltdown of the economy was so horrible that the Pauls had to make a move, railing against all Governmental agencies, big business, big banking, taxes (we all realize that if Bear Stearns hadn’t gone under, none of this would have happened, right?) that unexpectedly produced the Paul Political Dynasty. Similarly, years of climate change has Greenland dreaming of riches beyond your wildest dreams, so much so that they voted to ease themselves from Denmark politically. If the Paul’s are Greenland, than that probably makes Marco Rubio... Svalbard? Ellesmere Island?





John Thune: Indonesia is always a country you hear about as a rising power, although something untold always prevents this from happening. Did you know Indonesia is already the fourth most populous nation in the world? They even have a relatively non-insane political situation. Tons of potential, with a lot already in place... sounds like John Thune, the semi-sleeping giant of the presidential hopefuls. The only possible problem here is a) I don't really know much about Indonesia and b) I'm not sure they're anti-Obamacare enough. Obviously, a Thune-USA connection works, only Thune hasn't really done enough or been around enough.




Jeb Bush: Somewhere between underrated and not quite good enough, depending on the category, lies Portugal, the little brother of the Iberian Pennisula (so I guess George W. Bush is Spain). Portugal, like Jeb’s state of Florida, has great weather, some fantastic scenery and is usually cheap in terms of costs of living. Like Florida, Portugal is also for all intents and purposes bankrupt. There is also credit to be had for keeping the Portugese language distinct enough from Spanish so that everyone's sufficiently annoyed and a ton of historical cache for pushing Europe out past the Azores and south of Morocco. (Well, at least from a European perspective.) All else being equal, Portugal's supposedly 90% as lovely, romantic and historic as France, Italy or Spain, and really only the English know it. That's our Jeb Bush, something of a historic Bush at this point, as rumors of his presidential candidacy date back to the 1990’s. For a supposed best of the Bush brothers, Jeb’s shown real versitility and political savvy. Of course, Bush, like Portugal, has his fatal flaw, which is his inability to (probably) overcome the legacy of his idiot brother George, just like Portugal, which after years of semi-dictatorships, is always just a little too poor, a little too un-developed to surpass Spain. But just as Portugal will always have the sixteenth century when it policed the seas with Spain, Jeb will always have his role in the recount of 2000.



Don't laugh, brother Marvin Bush is Andorra.














Sarah Palin: Palin is loud, overly confident, and unreliable. She’s also expensive, having blown tens of thousands of dollars on wardrobes during the McCain campaign and costing millions for speaking engagements. This sounds like Italy, a beautiful, vibrant, and unique country that also happens to be completely insane. Sarah Palin has gone from high school beauty queen to the small-town mayor of town with population 6,000, to the Governor of Alaska, to vice-presidential candidate, to Governor of Alaska again, to resigning as Governor of Alaska, to Tea Party darling, to Oprah of the Right..well..this is exahausting. Italy has had over sixty governments since World War II. Palin has sometimes had a volatile relationship with Republican party brass, Italy managed to fight for both sides in World War I (and World War II, to a lesser degree after 1943) and was widely blamed by Germany (Mitt Romney and the business-oriented Republicans, we will get to them) for a myriad of Axis defeats in World War II (foil: McCain's loss in 2008). Like a stunning Italian couple sharing a delicious meal with an beautiful sunset as the backdrop, about once a week Sarah Palin will say something in the press that makes her seem attractive to Republicans. She isn't.






Newt Gingrich: Maybe it's the silly nickname -- dude's legal name is Newton Leroy Gingrich -- maybe it's the affairs, maybe it's the fact that he can’t help but insert himself into any argument, but whatever it is Newt seems like a guy who treats life and politics like a good time. At the center of Europe, lies the Czech Republic, which has given the world Prague, which has become the nightlife/partying/all things "adult" capital of Europe. We're living in the days of the Wild East, people. The Czech Republic amicably dissolved with Slovakia, ending the forty year run of "Czechoslovakia" in 1993, stunning everyone with its simplicity (who knew the names fit together like that?) and the fact that a genocidal civil war didn't have to erupt to do so. In much the same way, Newt quietly announced his “exploratory” campaign for the presidency last year, and the move wasn't the last step in a two-month scorched earth campaign about what a horrible legislator, husband, and face of the Republican Party Gingrich was in the 1990’s. Many people also considered that an impossibility.






Mitt Romney: Reliable, steady, rational, and lacking in any flash (has the man ever tried a different hair cut?), Romney is the Germany of the hopefuls. He's blander than Newt (Czech Republic), better than Pawlenty (Belgium) and Jeb (Portugal) and less powerful than the Tea Party (Russia) thanks to his passing of a state healthcare plan in Massachusetts that mirrors the Democratic reform bill. Sure, just like Germany might be viewed as a little too cold, a little too Rammstein-like, a little too expensive, we might quibble with some of the things that Romney does not have as a candidate: the power is limited, he's a horrible rabble-rouser (seriously, is any other candidate as monotonous and non-committal?), and, at this point, may not be the best option for the Republican Party. So he isn't perfect. Nevertheless, he's been one of the most valuable Republicans for half a decade now, is an efficient worker for what he's paid, and is well-educated relative to his peers.








Mike Huckabee: Mike Huckabee, he's big, brash and carries a slightly more lovable version of Haley Barbour's wholly unearned Southern boondock swagger. Sounds like Australia, which has always been something of the Arkansas of the Commonwealth. There's even something similar in the accents, if you think about it (someone needs to investigate this). I mean, Australia was even a part of the Coalition of the Willing, or whatever it was called. Like Huckabee, Australia is somehow massive and important, yet also without a solid category: are we really buying that it is a continent and not just a big island? What holds Australia back, is her vast distance from everything else; what holds Huckabee back is the vast distance between him and the White House when he has a microphone in his hand. You just don't see it happening. In addition, Australia's always been hindered by a distinct lack of people, making it big but also largely empty. Huckabee’s had that problem at the primary level, delivering somewhat empty answers on any non-social political issue. Like your typical Aussie, Huckabee seems like a guy who likes to have fun.

"Can I be New Zealand, mate?"

Take em to school

Just to get you pumped for the weekend.

http://www.nba.com/video/channels/nba_tv/2011/03/13/20110312_jordan_top10_gamedunks.nba/

[can someone teach me how to share videos?!]

**Many of these moves resemble what it looks like when I do what I like to call my "shake 'n' bake" to Gen on the court.

Rambling Woman

G and I are having an intensely busy week between school, attempting to catch each other on Skype, work, important grad school decisions, being super popular, getting in demo derby shape (I realized on Wednesday while on the exercise bike - right before my pilates class with a very gay man named Joel - reading the economist, drinking from my Klean Kanteen, watching CNN blare from surrounding TVs, and BBMing friends about grabbing a salad at SweetGreen later that I was turning into an utterly terrible DC cliche. At least I wasn't wearing trendy lulumon attire. Thank god for old East Lansing volleyball t shirts.), watching basketball games, etc.

We promised ourselves that we would regularly blog and are already realizing how difficult it is to carve out time to do things like, oh I don't know, compare every major English poet to a contemporary basketball coach. I guess this is why people twitter. Juliette?

Regardless, of lack of time, I have been reading about this today. Breathlessly. Good thing I have a super smart anthropology/musuem-studies-guru friend (who also AWESOMELY sent me this piece of brilliance today). Yes, as reported in Science Magazine, it turns out my caveman boyfriend isn't as Asian as I thought. bahaha. Gen what does this mean for the future of your Man Cave? I guess that likely warrants an entire blog entry in itself.

Anyhow, originally I was going to write to cheer on this "we'll see you in court you ignorant fascists" post and rant about reproductive health rights but I'm a bit busy at work in relation to this attended yesterday and will have to let the ACLU do my ranting for me.

http://www.aclu.org/blog/reproductive-freedom/well-see-you-court-south-dakotas-governor-signs-outrageous-law-restricting

Have a wonderful weekend! I'm getting back to work and daydreaming about eventually living here with the aforementioned caveman ...

holllllaaaa

March Madness is back tonight.

Glory Glory Hallelujah

I went running this morning and saw that ...

[resounding celebratory horns]

...The Meridian Hill Park fountains are back on! wwoooo hoo! All systems go.








I'm very much looking forward to the Sunday drum circle, Watson enjoying the park sights (intense games of flag football, family picnics --I love when toddlers point at Watson and joyfully announce things like "FAT DOG" or "Koala!"--, hippies doing everything from drugs to somewhat inappropriately sexual yoga positions, all the DC oddballs that come out of the woodwork to enjoy activities in Meridian such as tightrope walking and sword fighting, etc.), and of course watching the sun set over the city and the Potomac from a vantage point next to the ever so awesome Joan of Arc statue.

In which I alienate our substantial english speaking audience and turn this into a certifiable "couples blog"

I feel very fortunate, in fact, entirely too fortunate in light of recent, overwhelmingly dismal headlines attesting to terrible events and all that is very wrong with the human condition, to have this peaceful evening, reading restfully in my apartment as a mad thunderstorm rages outside. On my birthday this year I received two anthologies of French poetry. Tonight it moves me tremendously to read such simple and beautiful texts, to think of my good friend whose name rhymes with Zen Zillespie, and the ways in which people, all aforementioned faults aside, are capable of sustaining one another.

Sonnet

Comme un qui s’est perdu dans la forêt profonde

Loin de chemin, d’orée, et d’adresse, et de gens :

Comme un qui en la mer grosse d’horribles vents,

Se voit presque engloutir des grands vagues de l’onde.

Comme un qui erre aux champs, lorsque la nuit au monde

Ravit toute clarté, j’avais perdu longtemps

Voie, route, et lumière, et presque avec le sens,

Perdu longtemps l’objet, où plus mon heur se fonde.

Mais quand on voit (ayant ces maux fini leur tour)

Aux bois, en mer, aux champs, le bout, le port, le jour,

Ce bien présent plus grand que son mal on vient croire.

Moi donc qui ai tout tel en votre absence été,

J’oublie en revoyant votre heureuse clarté,

Forêt, tourmente, et nuit, longue, orageuse, et noire.

Étienne JODELLE (1532-1573)

Les Amours, sonnet XXX, f° 8v°

In case you missed it

1. SUPER MOON

You may or may not be aware that I love space factoids.  Additionally, I love easily accessible, visually pleasing imagery of otherwise complex concepts.  Luckily, today we were privy to the ultimate mash up of both.  In case you missed it, this past weekend saw THE BIGGEST MOON in 18 years.   Yes, Super Moon, as both huffpo "journalists" and astronomers are referring to it, is being generally extolled as AWESOME (duh), has been accused of causing the Japanese tsunami/earthquake (not true, although my fact checking quest did lead me to some other nuggets of space.com knowledge), and generally prompted some fantastic photos.

My only regret is that Gen returned to St. Louis before I could use any yo gen your butt is so big when you moon people that it's a super moon putdowns. 



2. MAPS

In light of its clear faults and lackadaisically developed female characters, I’m not going to admit to loving  the movie Gangs of New York but I will say that I do have a weakness for period dramas with fight scenes involving numerous extras.  In addition to Daniel Day-Lewis's thespian skills (earns a spot in your heart despite psychologically damaging Leonardo DiCaprio as he’s on the cusp of his current fat-face I-take-myself-way-too-seriously phase) my favorite scene is at the end following the corny burial where you see the city of New York slowly rise up at a distance.  Yep, I relish a graphic device that solidly helps you picture a physical setting or geographic mass as its evolves through time and human/natural interference.  [Gen, this helps explains why I squeezed your hand so hard during the CGI effects laden movies at Gettysburg battlefield and the Cahokia Mounds State Historical Site and why this book has been on my amazon wishlist for some time (which reminds me, why is there a Jayhawks snuggie on there that I keep deleting and keeps showing back up at the top?)]. 

Anyhow, having digressed...  I thought this nytimes.com application today was pretty sweet. 

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/03/21/nyregion/map-of-how-manhattan-grid-grew.html?ref=nyregion

Happy 200^th Anniversary Manhattan Rectangular Street Grid!!!

3.  Plugs for homies...

Check out The Urban Institute’s newly unveiled blog…

blog.metrotrends.org

AND check out my friend’s brilliant, thoroughly researched, wittily titled, law review piece. 

[Max, no way is that really your full name?  Do you want me to help you … I don’t know… legally change it maybe?}

Love & Basketball

Well, now that Nadia has unabashedly shown our romantic side (we have a shared love of poety and send poems of the week to each other). Yes, we do that. Any college buddies reading this entry...whatever, I know what you're going to say and I don't care. I also enjoy cuddling and long romantic walks on the beach. And I don't care. But I digress from my defense, so yeah, we love poetry. And as you can see from my first entry, I love college basketball. So I thought, why not combine the two in a blog entry. So...without any further ado I give you this gem:

If coaches in the NCAA Tournament were poets, who would they be?

I know you're excited. Read on.


Rick Pitino (Louisville): Consistent, persistent, sheer quantity (and obsession with increasing quantity) obscuring a brilliant beginning. A unique individual, a commonly cited inspiration for followers. Career noted for a significant wound, for one, the tragedy of France, for the other, a sex scandal on the table of an Italian restaurant. Considered, too much so at times, a mentor of sorts, an inspiration for others. In the end, highly overpaid. William Wordsworth.



Brad Stevens (Butler): A talent found unexpectedly (or so the accepted story goes). Romantically celebrated as a man from outside the industry, a less developed place. Perhaps, in this way, pigeonholed into a strict role, but also loved the more so for it. Robert Burns. Would also accept: John Greenleaf Whittier.






Bill Self (Kansas) and Tom Izzo (Michigan State) (tie…obvious bias here): An easy fellow to love and respect. A man who invites warm sentiments and makes us feel familiar pleasures. Never the best there is, but far from the worst. Not one to challenge us, yet also one who rarely disappoints. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Or, to be slightly more pessimistic: Oliver Wendell Holmes.




Jim Boeheim (Syracuse): Memorable for a particular style and in the end famous. A long career of short work. Disappointing to some, respected by others. Not one to be used, with much success, in serious situations. Ogden Nash.


Frank Martin (Kansas State): Has received, for better or worse, considerable attention for highly eccentric behavior. An individual voice; an unusual talent. Certainly, if we may say so...strange. Possesses an ability to make us see something familiar in a new way. Emily Dickinson. If you want to emphasize the shared Latin-American heritage (and I'm not saying I do), then I would also give you Pablo Neruda.







Bruce Pearl (Tennessee): Attempted nearly every style, every meter. Surrounded himself with talent, yet never really exuded it himself. Was curiously renowned for a time. It is too much to criticize them now, if you care you should fight another battle. Not good enough to be worth it. Will be forgotten anyway (done for one, certainly in the works for the other when he is fired). James Gates Percival.

Steve Fisher (former coach of the Michigan Fab Five and now San Diego State University): He was once a man of the future. Somewhere it went wrong with scandal and intrigue that wasn’t entirely his fault, but that he was in the end held responsible for. There was a comeback and a new position, and some acclaim. A hard nut to crack. In the end, unreadable. Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Jim Calhoun (Connecticut): "Temperamental" is the label fellows of this sort usually received, and that is being polite. Prone to the rant. One who lives in their own mental universe. Didn't age well. Ezra Pound. If you prefer, or demand, a less noxious crazy, perhaps William Blake.



John Calipari (Kentucky): Beloved by those 30 years his junior, seen as creepy and slimy by those his age. Engendered extremely loyal fan followings. Highly marketable. Branched out to embrace the new media of his day…mostly to promote himself. Shel Silverstein

John Beilein (Michigan): Modern style. Up to date. Innovative. A primary source who works as if he's anticipating the secondary sources to be written. Smart for his time, but not better than passable in the end. Allen Tate. Also works: John Wain or basically any poet from the 1960s on.

Bo Ryan (Wisconsin): Overshadowed by more brilliant peers, probably unfairly so. One who does a variety of things well, none greatly. Consistent. Had odd way of generating harsh critics. Deserving of greater acclaim. James Russell Lowell. If you wanted to stress the boring aspect: George Crabbe.


Rick Barnes (Texas): A golden son of the South. Not terribly good on his own merits, but rated highly due to the company he keeps. Sidney Lanier. If he gets better: James Dickey










Coach K (Duke) and Dick Vitale (announcer): A litmus test. If someone tells you "oh, he's a great poet/leader/announcer" you know in an instant that you're listening to a fool. It doesn't even make sense... both just really want to establish how awesome they are in a “traditional” sense, how much they can see what you can't. John Dryden. Or, stressing more of the former and less of the latter, Gertrude Stein.

Every 14-16 seed who lost in the first round: What is this? Who was the mind behind these short verses? There is, or was, or might have been, something here. Perhaps. We'll never know. The Anonymous Author of Every Random Poem Someone Finds.

Shaka Smart (VCU), Chris Mooney (Richmond): Not much of a body of work, when you get down to it. However, what exists, well, might be considered to be just short of that upper level. Enough to make you wonder. Just don't over do it…because that run is going to end in the Sweet 16. Hart Crane.


Jamie Dixon (Pittsburgh): It always seems unique and inspiring, but beneath the veneer it is sadly typical. Disappointing, even. A bright beginning (or what was thought to be a beginning) and an early end. Was it his fault or just bad luck? Many end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Planted, we might say, in infertile soil. For now, we must go with a real man of obscurity, though known in his day: Joseph Brown Ladd.



Bob Huggins (West Virginia): Modest working-class upbringings (coal country West Virginia and Northern Ireland), and defined by personal family tragedy, particularly alcoholism. Prickly. Personally disliked by many but respected by all in his field. Developed a ingenious yet accessible style that fully embraces a simple upbringing. Capable of demonstrating extreme kindness and reprehensible behavior. Finds fame away from the place of his formative years, but in the end returns home and becomes obsessed with restoring and honoring traditions of his home country. Seamus Heaney


Bruce Weber (Illinois): Easily accessible. A "one trick pony" (harsh) or someone who had one season in the sun (nicer). Always seems in a hurry. Overrated. Sylvia Plath. You could also talk me into Allen Ginsberg at his peak.








Jimmer Fredette (BYU…the coach on the floor): Devoted and faithful. A protege of the white, suburban elite who was put on display from a young age as a talent to be celebrated. Notably, and for some, annoyingly, religious. Ended, unfortunately, in obscurity (for one, of course, this is yet to come but will in the NBA). Phillis Wheatley. Also works: Jones Very.

I know that “The Jimmer” isn’t a coach, so yeah I broke the rules a bit. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. Enjoy!

Rock Chalk,

Gen

Beautiful Day

The Enkindled Spring

By D.H. Lawrence

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, ashadow that's gone astray, and is lost.

Mamma Mia

Last night, I told my mom that Gen and I had started a blog and her first reaction was, “I think that is a bad idea.  Don’t blog about me.”  This initial response did not come as a surprise. My mother (like myself as you may guess from Gen’s first post) values her privacy and feels wary of adding self-indulgent tidbits of fuel in to the ever churning, ever invasive internet furnace.  However, her second slightly self-important sentence made me laugh because of the immediate assumption that she would be my topic of choice.  I’m sure KJ at theonlycolors.com never has to reassure his Mom that he won’t list her stats right under Draymond’s.

I got off the phone with her chuckling, having assured her this would never happen, and left to have one too many glasses of cabernet at a friend’s house.  Now, half a day later, I have determined, in typical contrarian fashion, that I am going to immediately blog about my Mother.

My mom is someone who runs to get her binoculars and Audobon birding guide when she sees a flash of color in the backyard.  She loves blaring opera through the entire house on Sunday mornings, has an excessive sweet tooth (it takes a special kind of woman to put away a box of marrons glacees), and adds “pooh-pooh” to the name of animals she is fond of (e.g. our cat Rosie despite likely having an acute personality disorder making her entirely unpleasant unless you catch her in the 20 second period before she thinks you’re going to give her milk is referred to as Rosie Pooh Pooh).  She has a PhD and an MBA and earned the latter in her forties.  I can’t laud her professional achievements without sacrificing her anonymity but as Joe Biden might say, she’s a “big fucking deal.”  She kayaks and skis like a pro.  She dapples for amusement in hard science - taking action such as both reading The Fabric of the Cosmos and studying the ingredients of cosmetics and toiletry products to determine their exact composition based on her biochemical engineering background with equal enjoyment.  On any given evening you’ll find on her night table, a translation of Tolstoy, Keith Richards autobiography (with little hearts scrawled everywhere and a "Mick or Keithe?" pros and cons list), Twilight (“just to see how it ends”), Mad Men dvds cases, and the New York Review of Books.

In other words, my mom’s interests are varied and her accomplishments impressive.  To my mind, this constant exploration and curiosity, this enthusiasm, these efforts to rationally consider and understand an event or process, this drive towards perpetual self-improvement and intellectual growth are things to be emulated.

When I picture her at my age, I conjure a swirling image based on stories and references that have been shared with me, the figure of my Mom (but with long hair), a mythic tanned amazon, adroitly sailing a small yacht across the tempestuous Atlantic while stopping briefly to protest nuclear energy, challenge chauvinism, and eat chicken livers at her grandmother’s.  I see that sea-faring captain of olde in the way she leads our family vacations – at the helm of a day spent searching for a pre-historic dolmen, rumored to exist, down a poorly marked maze of trails, tucked somewhere amongst tall grass and disgruntled cows into a farmer’s dusty plot, with only an anicent weathered map to guide us, eventually necessitating a stop for a swig of coffee from the family’s 20 year old plastic ikea mug, un petit gateau to prevent a malaise, and a contented, sweaty sigh, as we pause to gaze at the landscape and feel the way Cezanne probably felt as he emerged from the bush, toting his cumbersome canvas, to discover the perfect sunlight caressing rocky hilltops.

When I picture myself at her age, I want what she’s achieved.  I want to be able to know how to make the sort of choices she has, be the feminist she is, give the advice she does, and be the friend, daughter, sister, and wife that she has been.   Most of all, I want that drive.  When we were younger and I lived at home, I used to hear her reciting Russian sentences and lessons from old school books from her bedroom. She would close the door and practice diligently for an hour or so.  I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been to Russia since the 1970s and that there is no trip planned.    

I can’t imagine how difficult being a mother is.  It’s pretty crazy to look through old photos and see myself as a little girl sitting on my mother’s lap or clinging to her hand while walking somewhere and to realize the sheer level of dependence and physical need that was there.   It must be both exhausting and tremendous.

It’s undeniable that my mom has and continues to provide that exhausting, tremendous love, protection, support, and literal and figurative handholding to cross busy intersections.  Certainly, whenever something interesting, moving, difficult, confusing, happens, I want to share it with her immediately and I hate to say it but I realize that she has been right at the end of the day a shocking number of times.  Perhaps though what I value the most was what she taught me by example about being a stand-alone, curious, person, about what it means to be passionate and desire learning and achievement in a truly varied sense.  I’m happy I never got any bullshit lines about how her most important role in life was being a mother (way to ruin your Oscar acceptance speech Natalie Portman).  If my Mom never learned to cook and still burns frozen pizzas, it’s because she was too busy developing a litany of other passions and skills (and conveniently secured a life partner with Julia Child-esque abilities).  Instead, to my great benefit, I saw her face light up on an architectural tour in Chicago, noticed all of the Napoleonic period nonfiction she read, witnessed a snorkeling mask and ill-fitting flippers being pulled on and her launching herself off of a boat, experienced all of the day hikes she planned whether in suburban DC or in the rainy finistere, the look on her face as she stepped through a Romanesque church entrance trusted guidebook in hand, the manner in which she thoroughly studied a footnoted synopsis before we attended a shakespeare play so she wouldn’t miss anything, and I heard harsh Russians sounds emanating from her study.

 In sum, I saw a Do Right Woman.  So, Mom, sorry I know I said I wouldn’t blog about you but I never said you wouldn’t be my blog’s muse…

Musing #1 by Gen

Hi. I’m Gen. I have been blogging for the past five years, from the time I graduated from college. I was one of the original founders of the ill-fated I Am Not a Witness NBA blog, back when my buddy John and I had this crazy idea that, since there were no good NBA blogs on the market at the time, we’d write our own. We dabbled in that for a while, posted some great guest columns, responded to obscene comments, posed as anonymous commenters to generate interest, banned users, and now John has gone on to bigger and better things with his new NBA blog, www.iamagm.com. Check it out if you’re a NBA fan. There’s a lot of good stuff there, and John is tireless with getting all the NBA news and gossip online before anyone knows about it. He’s really a genius when it comes to this stuff.

Normally I wouldn’t want to introduce myself, but Blog Built for Two is going to take some getting used to, so I think that all the formal conventions of initiating communication should apply. I do not mean that in a negative sense, it’s just that: (1) my prior internet life has been dominated by blogging about man-stuff, like sports and bbq, and the content of this blog will be more inclusive and, well, well-rounded (or at least that is the intention); and (2) I’m still in a state of shock because for the past two years I’ve received nothing but criticism and dirty looks from Nadia every time she found out about my blogging history, or my twitter account, or anything web-related to which I can claim a footprint. So you can imagine my surprise when on a whim I suggested that we start a couples blog and received nothing but enthusiasm in response. That being said, I’m excited.

In our inaugural post, Nadia so eloquently stated that we do not really know what the expect with this. That’s the fun part and what I’m most looking forward to. I see this as a forum for us to be closer in mind and spirit in a long-distance relationship, and to share the best of our experiences and insights with friends (in the broadest, internettty sense). But I also see this as a manifestation of the awesomeness of technology; blogging as a couple is really revolutionary when it comes to long-distance couples collaboration and communication. To put it in perspective, let’s compare this to President John Adams and Abigail Adams, who spent most of his presidency writing letters back and forth to each other from Washington, DC to Boston in the 18th century. John practiced politics, Abigail raised children, and their communications occurred, oh, I don’t know…maybe twice per month? Sounds miserable, right? So yes, it goes without saying…the internet is amazing when it comes to this stuff. So freaking cool.

Bug I digress. I don’t want to leave you with my musings only, so I figure I should talk about something substantial. And that something is…the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament. So much for branching out. Like I said, this will take some getting used to, so I figure I should ease in to this with what I know. Full disclosure: I am a HUGE Kansas Jayhawks fan. Nadia is a HUGE Michigan State Spartans fan. Luckily, these two teams have never played while we have been dating, because something terrible would likely happen. Sadly (or awesomely?), many of our biggest fights have centered on defending our team and tossing out unwarranted, overly emotional polemical accusations against the fans/coaches/players/reputation/image/symbolism/existence of the other program. This usually results in the other person being offended and demanding an apology, followed by more arguing, and then finally, an apology. Really mature process, I know. Yet Nadia has been at her most supportive when Kansas lost to Northern Iowa in the tournament last year. If you’re knowledgeable about college basketball, Kansas is one of the most successful programs of all time, but they’ve had their share of disappointing NCAA Tournament flame-outs: Northern Iowa in 2010, Bradley in 2006, Bucknell in 2005, Rhode Island in 1998, Arizona in 1997 (best team to never win the championship), Syracuse in 1995. Somehow, despite rooting for a team that perennially disappoints in the postseason, I’ve kept my hope and faith. And now, I’m prepared to double down. Kansas University will win the National Championship this year. Because just as Kansas looked poised for a disappointment again this year as they came out tight against Boston University, so too do the Jayhawks look poised to right the ship and return to playing at an elite level in the second round for their coach, Bill Self, as he takes on his old team, the University of Illinois. After that, a 12 seed Cinderella in Richmond University awaits in the Sweet 16, and that will likely be where Richmond’s luck ends. Anything from there is gravy, and I am confident that, barring an injury, Kansas is bigger, deeper, and more athletic than any of the other contenders (except for Duke with a healthy Kyrie Irving, which scares me). While I have no illusions that the Jayhawks could easily disappoint me again – though I certainly would have no complaints with seven straight league titles and a National Championship in 2008 – I think the tide has turned and the stars have aligned for this year’s Jayhawks team. And I want to be there to document it online.

So I present to you my first post, rambling but sincere. I can’t promise you a consistent measure of quality, but I can all but guarantee you prodigious amounts of quantity. I promise you my next post will be better, although it’s always possible that my job search goes to shit and I don’t have time to blog. But I’m betting on the former. Either way, I hope you enjoy this blog. If you do, please spread the word to your friends and family. If you don’t, please have the courtesy to keep your feelings to yourself, idiots. Just kidding.

There is a quote attributed to many authors (particularly Mark Twain), but likely first uttered by Blaise Pascal, that goes, “I did not have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.” If you’re looking for tight, refined, 700-word columns, you’ll have to look elsewhere, like your local newspaper. If, on the other hand, you’re looking for long, meandering posts that frequently go off on wild tangents and occasionally never return to their original point, you’ve come to the right place. If you’re looking for someone willing to write a five-page essay on the most trivial things, with neither a copy editor nor someone to remind them to count to ten before writing something when they’re angry, sad, or irrationally exuberant, you’ve come to the right place. But then you probably already knew that. After all, this is a blog. I may even write about religion or politics from time to time, particularly if I feel my readership base has grown too large and I want to alienate half of you in one fell swoop.
I welcome your comments with each posting. I may not be able to respond to all of them, but rest assured I try to read every one. All I ask is that you keep it clean. There may be children reading this, and if they're you’re children, then you need to either create a better filter on your internet browser or accept that children these days are exposed to enough objectionable material already. I leave you with the most awesome picture of Nadia of all time, taken in Philadelphia at the Kansas-Temple basketball game. Great photography work, leaving me out and showing Nadia in all her beautiful Jayhawks glory.

Thanks and until next time,

Gen