My three sons

The Composer, at three weeks old. Getting cuter everyday.












The Inventor, showing his mischievous side.












The Painter, looking more and more the schoolboy.

Back from the trip

I hesitated to title this post "Back Home". We're not home here. This has just been a landing pad, a stopover on our journey. I think we're ready to get back on the train.

All told, we spent three full days with an agent, looking at about 30 homes, several more than once. Some were quite forgettable; others rather unforgettable, for good and bad. What's amazing is the realization that housing where we're looking is without exaggeration 1/5-1/6 of the cost of comparable housing here. On bestplaces.net, our current area rates a 325 for housing costs (U.S. average=100) vs. the prospective community's 53-60.

We had set our priorities: a nice-sized and well-laid out kitchen; a good-sized yard (big enough for a vegetable garden, and running around room for the boys); a decent neighborhood; priced under $150k; 3+ bedrooms (at least two of good size); we need space for our books and piano, space for a home office, space for our entertainment center, and space for the boys to play.

In the end, we were down to three under consideration.

A) Listed at $124,000. Wood exterior, needing paint in the next year or two. Two car garage is a tear-down. Kitchen on the small side, but possible to remodel into the dining room (maybe a rather large eat-in). Large yard, corner lot. 10x10 sun room could be home office); fireplace; hardwood floors throughout; central air, fairly new furnace; unfinished basement; good neighborhood.

B) Listed at $150,000. Three bedrooms upstairs. Large yard, corner lot. Office room on main floor. Nice kitchen (everything updated, new cabinets and stone floor). Hardwood throughout; carpet in living room. Newer furnace; central air; programmable thermostat; vinyl siding; 5-year old 2.5 car garage; unfinished basement; large yard; same neighborhood as above.

C) Listed at $135,000. Great neighborhood. Lots of cosmetic work needed (including new kitchen). Hardwood throughout. Aluminum siding. Partially finished basement. Medium yard (but two houses down from a nice park and playground). 1.5 car garage needs work. Across the street from new friends from the synagogue with two kids. (They had us over for dinner on Saturday).

What are your thoughts? More coming soon...

Community vs. Home

I've been struggling with a post, which keeps becoming longer and more complicated than I'd like.

Here is the essence: Which is more important community or home?

Here's what I mean: our current first pick locale leads in part because of the prospect to become part of the local Jewish community there. I've never been an active member of a synagogue before. But I'd like to pass along to my boys a sense of my heritage, which in today's America seems impossible without such a connection. (When public schools send children home with countdown chains for Christmas, teach them to sing "the Lord is come" in the winter pageant, have them write letters to Santa, and insist that Christmas is a secular holiday, how is a child not to become confused?)

But I fear we may be forced to choose between being near such a community or finding a place that satisfies our housing requirements. Which is more important? If I'm to be working at home, and Rocket has no work outside the house for a time, that leads me to think those requirements are more stringent.

Community is hypothetical, potential. A home is where we'll spend our lives, but for the few spare hours each day or week that we go elsewhere. The point is, doesn't it seem where and how we spend most of our time should weigh most heavily on our decisions?

If the choice is between being near a possible community and having a home that fulfills our expectations (sufficient land for a garden and running around space for the boys, a sizable kitchen, space enough for a reasonable home office, and costs that allow us to survive for 2-3 years), I think I lean toward the latter.

Assuming I succeed in turning these ideas into self-sustaining support, we can always move nearer to community then, eh?

Off to Nether-Somewhere Land

Tomorrow we fly. I wonder what we'll find. I've been in touch with several real est@te agents this week. Can't be certain we'll find what we're looking for, where we're looking, in the price range we can afford. Much is still up in the air. But we've got some time. We could move in March. We could move in June.

Where would you live? What constitutes a good neighborhood or a bad one? What makes a good school or an excellent one? Everything is subjective.

So, we'll go, and we'll look, and we'll see. This week should give us a sense of many things. What'll work? One conclusion we have come to is that size of a house matters a great deal when you expect to spend most of your waking hours there. People who don't work inside the home have no idea how cramped it can feel.

We're not talking mansion here (though there is one property we're interested in seeing, a repo, that's about 2800 sqft!). I measured up our current house. It comes to about 1400 sqft (+ a two car garage, no basement). That's about as small as we can make do. I tell agents 1500-1600 sqft minimum. They send me listings 1100 sqft. You wonder... I know a basement is space... but it's a basement. We'll fill it with storage, trust me. Or a play area, and toys, a work area for projects. But unless it's finished with heat and lighting, I'm not likely to make it my office.

4 bedrooms/2 baths. They send me 3 bedrooms/1 bath. Um...

We've got a piano, and three 4' x 7' bookcases. They've got to go somewhere! Why do we need 4 bedrooms? One for us; One (largish one) for the boys; a guest room/play room... and a home office. That's four. So... we'll see.

Wish us well.

Out of the stupor

These past couple days I've been absolutely and utterly exhausted. Frequently interrupted sleep is a nasty condition. Yesterday, I came home around 4:00, and promptly hit my pillow for about an hour. Then, I went to bed before 10:00 and slept until nearly 7:00. Today, again, I was drowsy. I picked up my mom at the airport, after getting the Painter from kindergarten, and picking up the Inventor (who wanted to join us) from home. I narrowly escaped a few very bad judgments on my part while driving home. I chalk it up as sleep deprivation. That's a good reason not to drive more than necessary.

Somehow, out of the stupor of the past couple days, I've made admirable progress on my major unresolved issue. Sure, it takes me a while. But, time is something I have in abundance. My white board has remained uncluttered since I wrote about it in that earlier post, except for the addition of the words breathe and smile. They help I think.

I know about myself that I work most productively in spurts, long seemingly uninspired periods of mulling, then bam. It's nice to have hit a spurt on this issue, since it is a fulcrum of sorts on which much of the rest of my proof-of-concept work depends.

But, there still remains this little matter of mastering C++. [SIGH]

Hearing Silence

Hearing silence: deafening.
There is no shame in deafness.
Not in hearing lies the fault.

I strain my eyes at silent walls,
dull with grey, speckled by doubt,
and wonder if vision's gone awry.

Why do I look?
Walls will not change of their own.
They have no voice to speak.

Yet there is a voice that speaks.
No use wondering why I don't hear it.
Perhaps all I need ... is listen.

Anxiety, Self-Doubt, Courage

Rocket recently put it rather astutely: Right now, I'm just a bit overwhelmed. Indeed! Echo that for me.

• Three boys at home.
• Delightful they are, but exhausting.
• The youngest, now a mere two weeks alive, still in that stage of "WOW! The World!" [SNORT SNORT SNUFFLE GRUNT] [Grimace]
• For those with kids: you forget this stage, but there he is, completely dependent upon us, and with little to do but flop and observe.
• For those without kids: This stage of life is like having a very precious, demanding, and wonderful pet, whom you know, you just know, will grow very suddenly into something even more remarkable. But you wait.
• The middle boy trying (I know he's trying) to leave behind diapers and enter the world of the potty-trained (but our patience gives out at times, when all the training pants and clothes are dirty).
• The oldest is ready for the new move. He couldn't understand why we'll only be spending five days on our upcoming trip.
• I thought we were going to move to a new house?
• Um... but we've got to find a place, we've got to be sure we'll like the new town, we've got to put an offer on a house, then pack, and figure out how we're going to move, and... Come here, give me a hug.
  
• A wife on leave, with vanishingly little intention to return to her job.
• I'm proud of her courage.
• I just fear I won't provide for her the way she has for me these past several years.
  
• A small horde of savings that may last us about two years.
• A jittery economy and financial markets don't settle my worries, though I'm glad I started moving a chunk of funds out of equities into cash and bonds last September. My hunch was right.
  
• A world of possibilities.
• Will I succeed in building my ideas into marketable products?
• Will I retain myself, will I maintain my commitments to bettering the world?
• Will I remember my research while I need to find ways for it to pay for itself?
• I try to remember that I am me, no matter what.
• I try to recall that none of the important things in life (my family, my self, my mind) are at risk. Only money, and time.

Courage!

Už jsme tu kde jsme byli

--as they say, where I did my Fulbright (or "back to square one" as we say in these parts).

I find myself once again delving into the realm of computer programming. This week has begun with a return to where I was in the summer, before I (foolhardily, as it turned out) sought the support of experienced programmers to aid me on my journey to setting up my proofs-of-concept. Foolhardy, because it wasted a great deal of my energy and time, and netted me nothing but frustration. Truth is, I have no desire to become a programmer first and foremost. That said, I need to know enough to direct the efforts of those whom I expect eventually to hire. Nothing better for that than getting my feet wet.

If I were able to find a kindred soul, someone passionately interested in what I'm trying to accomplish, not terribly entrenched in the status quo of the field, eager to try something new, and who just happened to have a complementary set of skills to mine, well... I'd be in heaven. For now, I'll have to stick with planet earth, which means if you want it done (whether right I can't yet say) you've got to do it yourself.

In some ways, this is familiar territory for me. I've described myself (academically) as multidisciplinary to my core. The bane of the interdisciplinary is that one needs (all too) often gain at least a modicum of expertise in multiple areas. One needs to be conversant in multiple dialects and methodologies to be able to find the linkages between otherwise disparate fields of inquiry, linkages that have been overlooked or yet undiscovered. The trick (and it's no small matter) is to maintain a focus on the core of your inquiry so you don't bogged down too easily in great breadth with no depth. Properly done, I think it's like meandering through a woods, rather than sticking to a given path. I wrote a fable of interdiscipline on my old blog a while back that fills out this view.

There is always a balance to be struck. There are great rewards in being self-reliant in this way. But there are also more chances to stumble. Finding the balance, learning enough to carry on the conversation, enough to know when, where, and how to delegate is key. What I'm programming now is simply the tools to prove my ideas work. Once I can drum up interest in what those ideas can accomplish, I can safely hire programmers to make those tools better, and more broadly usable. For now, I'll settle on clunky, as long as I can maneuver it.

I did find a project (by a group of astro-physicists) that may be of great help. They've put together a template library for scientific computing in C++ that can be found here.

Wish me luck.

Cleaning my plate

No house guest at the moment. My mom arrives on Friday. This is the first day Rocket had to pack the two younger boys into the van, and drive to pick up Painter from kindergarten. I'm at the office. This is new. She seems to have survived. I called to check.

And we're both surviving our latest push to get the Inventor fully potty-trained. It's a struggle. But we seem to be making progress. At least, there are a few successes to accompany the daily accidents.

That is one part of my life: being a parent. A part, which I have chosen freely, and which (despite its frustrations) I fully embrace.

Having finished and submitted the promised biography (of the protagonist of my dissertation) last week, I find myself essentially with a clean plate. Sure, I have this book chapter to write, but the deadline is at the end of October. While I'd like to get working on it long before that deadline, my priority just now is figuring out the next few months that intervene.

We'll be taking the boys on a trip in a couple weeks, to scout out the territory we're considering for our new homestead. Rocket has been trying to sort out her conflicting emotions and desires regarding the possible move. Importantly, this trip will allow us to take it out of the realm of hypotheticals, and into the realm of considerations. Will we find this place to our liking? What of the houses we might look at? Will they seem acceptable to us? Suitable? Could we see ourselves living there? And thriving?

If all those answers are affirmative, then we've got the logistics of the move to tend to. Are we ready to put an offer on a house? When should we plan the move? How are we going to go about it? How much will it cost?

And, just as importantly, I need to get cracking on my research, building these proofs, getting ready for client and investor demos.

Suppose you find yourself essentially free (but with a deadline some couple years out). I think of the computer graphics unit of early Lucas Films. That was their lives for several years (indeed for several employers). I'm trying to model my work on what they did (there are parallels, in an odd sort of way). Only, I don't have anyone bankrolling my research. We've got to cover it all ourselves, and come up with marketable intermediates along the way to keep funds coming in.

I'm a different sort of entrepreneur. My motivation is the work, and solving the research problems. The money, the marketing... they're just means to the ends. I'm not looking to cash in on a good idea. I've got a lifetime's worth of work set out. My goal is to find ways to sustain myself in that work. The fun part is getting the business to work for me, while I work for the research.

How do you get there from here? That's my task of the moment.

Super what?

It is possible to lead a fulfilling life without the least concern as to the plight of sweaty, oversized, overpaid, overhyped athletes.

I am thoroughly ignorant of what it's all about, and perfectly content in that state. Really, there are so many other things for me to get excited or agitated about.

Enough said!

Adventure

Searching on zillow.com for housing information, I saw an ad for New Zealand Now, a website touting opportunities to immigrate to New Zealand. We both qualify under their list of "needed skills" giving us bonus points in an application. And they wish to encourage people starting businesses there.

Adventure. I filled out their contact page. (Do you want to work in NZ? Yes When? Not sure of timing.) Rocket and I look at each other... You know, there is an appeal!

Perhaps we'll go live in the Midwest for a while, then see.

Deadlines/Priorities

I have to finish up the formatting (and bibliography) for this brief bio I'm writing. FINISHED! Yes, the deadline was last Friday, but after the Composer arrived early, I wrote to the editors to say my schedule had been waylaid by his intervention. They ceded me a week's extension. I worked on it this week, and have it mostly complete.

I volunteer in the Painter's kindergarten class for about an hour on Fridays. His teacher had said she'd understand (what with the new baby and all) if I couldn't make it. Priorities. I said I'd be there. I expect to get this bio done this afternoon. DONE! If not, I'll send it in a few days.

Still have a little plate of things to clear. After this bio, I have the book chapter (which I had initially shirked) due in October. My mother-in-law departs on Saturday. My mother arrives to visit and help out for a few days next week. After she leaves, we pack up the five of us for a trip to see about a new home.

I've been spending a bit of time online checking out real estate sites. There are some bargains out there if we're willing and able to do our own fixing. Looks like there are quite a few houses that have been rentals for a while, which need a good deal of cosmetic repairs, but hopefully their fundamentals are sound.

I even found a house (4 bd/2 ba) for under $25,000! It was a repo, but seemingly in fair shape. No telling about condition until we actually see them though. In any case, we've identified a few areas where we'll likely be able to find a house we can afford (looks like buying would beat renting in that area, so we're hoping to be homeowners again). We're willing to do some work, fixing up and remodeling, as long as the house is livable in the interim.

For the moment, I don't see this next home as an investment. Rather, I'm looking to buy us 2-3 years to spend on building my firm, and raising our boys. The only question is how to arrange that purchase with our current pot of savings, and how can we come out the other end with nothing lost except perhaps some money. The impending move (and its associated logistics) will be a bit of distracter for a while, though I'm hoping not to give it more than necessary of my energy and time.

Two to three years! I gave the PhD six, and my faculty job search three. I think I can afford a couple years on my ideas (and my family).

Wisconsin

I have reason to suspect there are readers of this blog from Southern Wisconsin/Northern Illinois, to which my family will be visiting (in search of a new home) February 15-19. It'd sure be great to make some contacts there. If you are willing, send an email to my gmail, at right.

Things to remember (or, what is identity anyway?)

Sometimes I want to cry, and curl up on someone's shoulder, evoke sympathy, receive comfort, be a child again.

• But I am a man: 40 years old.
• I am a father (of 3 boys now).
• And I am a husband.

• I have my health (for the most part).
• I will not go hungry (nor will my family).
• I can cook a marvelous feast from whatever is at hand.

• I am capable.
• I am committed.
• I am industrious.
• I am self-reliant.

• I am not alone.

I need to remember that none of this, none of the important things in life, is about proving anything to anyone.

• My PhD was not earned so I could be called "Doctor".
• Indeed, it was not in particular to become a professor.
• It was an exercise to pursue my own path, to ask the questions that kept me awake at nights.
  
• It is not failure to walk away from the world of academia.
• It is a choice, motivated by my reading of the world in which I live, and my desire to create a different one.

• I need to remember that pursuing my current interests, attempting to build a research firm, seeking to file patents, are simply a path.
• I control my work, and my efforts.
• I have no control over how they are received.
• I do these things not to prove myself worthy.
• I am worthy.

• There is nothing to fear in pursuit.
• As my father taught me: We get to choose if we will be good; only history can choose if we will be great.
• It is enough to be good.
  

The Polished Glass of Pure Perfection

The polished glass of pure perfection
cannot be seen from where I stand.

Like the moon,
or the eyes of a portrait,
it shifts as I move,
only--unlike them--
it hides.

Just a glimpse,
I desire.
Just a peek.

What radiance would I see?
What mysteries unfold?

But I see no reflection:
not of me,
nor the room,
nor anything I can fathom.

I fall back on my knowledge,
my belief,
my suspicion,
my fear.

Is it there?

(29 January 2008)

Terrified

First off, I'm sleep-deprived (as any parent of a newborn will attest), so mood swings can be expected. To some extent, I'm terrified. Not of being a parent of three boys. Not really of anything in specific. I'm just a bit terrified... of life. When struck with unexpected events, I sometimes paralyze. A case in point: Wednesday.

I awoke at the hospital beside my beautiful wife and newborn son (Rocket asked that I stay the night, and friends had agreed to watch the boys as long as needed). I drove home (stopping to get some donuts and pastries for the boys, and our friends). I spent the morning with the Inventor then picked up the Painter from kindergarten, visiting Rocket and the Composer at the hospital for about an hour before heading to the airport to get my mother-in-law.

We park. Two hands, two boys. We walk down one flight of stairs (into the rain) and across the street. I look up at the monitor to see which baggage claim to go to. Aaargh! The one time I failed to check on-time status before heading out, the flight has been rescheduled--2 hours later! I reach for the cell phone on my hip... Nothing's there.

I think. Sure I put it there. I just checked a message before leaving the van, so I know I had it. Perhaps it's on the seat. We walk back. Nope. Walk into the terminal, step up to the information desk. Upshot: I speak with a half dozen different officials, police, volunteers, employees--each one has a different idea where "lost and found" might be. No phone. Hours to kill (we'll miss the Inventor's naptime). What do I do? I'm paralyzed. We retrace our steps three times, each time pausing to ask different parties along the way where to find "lost and found". No dice. Phone gone.

Eventually I gathered myself enough to take the boys out for lunch. That helped (we were all hungry). We kill the time, return to the airport, beg a cell call from a stranger (to my wife, who called my mother-in-law, who hadn't checked any bags, so was waiting for us elsewhere). [SIGH!] Paralyzed. It's not a feeling that I like. Indecision. I rather think of myself as one who weighs choices, options. My wife would say that I'm the type to lay all possibilities out on the table before me.

I consider, and mull. Once I've laid them out, and reflected on their relative merits and demerits, I don't hesitate;I make a choice. But what if the choices are not given to me beforehand to consider? Or, what if they change while I'm not noticing? Ah, there's the trouble. Perhaps I'm not so good at improvisation. Maybe that explains my weakness in interviews. Yet, there's a great deal of improvisation in teaching. I guess it all depends on what one has thought about before, what one has prepared, that treasure chest from which to draw.

The Composer arrived nearly 3 weeks before expected. What a joy he is (as are the older two). So beautiful. So peaceful. So trusting. So dependent. It's not really that he was early. We anticipated that possibility. It's just that he's here, and somehow I'm not sure we're ready for the next steps.

We find ourselves midair, having jumped, before we land. Did we remember the parachutes? Do we know the terrain below? A couple weeks of logistics to work out. A financial reality check that isn't what I expected. I looked up the median household expenditures for the area we're intending to move. It's not really that off from a tally of our expenditures. In fact, the budget I think we can squeeze into is about 20% lower. But that's still more than I had anticipated. (I forgot to account for real inflation--rather than the fictions our government professes). I was working off assumptions and calculations from about a year ago.

It helps to get this all down. It's not quite so daunting once I take the time to consider. Still scared. But also a bit inspired. So many things to be thankful for. So many blessings in life. Need to remember that. Need to embrace the positives.
_____________________
I stopped by the store on the way home and picked up a bouquet of roses and alstroemerias for my wife, a mixed bouquet for my mother-in-law, and a couple heart balloons for my two older boys. I think they all needed to here "I love you" [Don't tell: I think I needed to hear myself say it.]

Not so invincible after all

It seems nothing quite humbles like an honest look at expenditures. I ran a report in Quicken of our expenses over the last 12 months, to make a reasonable budget looking forward. Some expenses are certainly higher here in Southern California than they'll be where we're moving. (I must confess I was shocked to get an auto insurance quote that says our premiums will likely go UP by as much as 80%!). Overall, our expenses (the ones I couldn't pare down, or really can't assess until we arrive in our new place) are still perhaps 40% higher than I had been thinking.

Housing is the biggest factor. Our costs here are insane. We have been hoping we'll be able to find something affordable. If we're lucky a bank will overlook the fact that we will have no income soon (or, since Rocket is officially on leave, and thus still employed, maybe they'll consider her erstwhile income). In any case, looking over our budget, rather than having 2-3 years where we were hoping, it may be 18 months-2 years, and possibly looking someplace even cheaper. It's amazing to me how much housing costs vary from one place to another.

The relatively modest house we rent here would go for at least $500k, possibly $600k (even in today's depressed market). We had been thinking to move where $150k would buy us a nice place. Current considerations may push us down to the $100k range. I wish there were some alternative. I wish society weren't arranged to push many PhDs into poverty (lucky if they have a spouse who can earn a supportive income). I'm still bitter and disgusted by that. But I've made a choice to leave that path. Rocket has made a choice to take time off from her career (perhaps indefinitely).

That leaves us savings, and luck, and hope. I've got work to do. If I can maneuver these hurdles in short time and come up with rock-solid proofs-of-concept, perhaps I can push ahead with finding investors (and thus able to pay myself a salary). Understandably, I've been a bit distracted these past few weeks. And we've got a lot of logistics to deal with, assuming we're going to move this Spring or Summer.

We're still lucky. I know that. But knowing that doesn't solve the logistics, or make our choices any easier.

Introducing: the Composer

22 January 2008, 20:25 (~20 minutes before the doctor showed up!), our #3 arrived. 6 lbs. 14 oz. 18" long. 19 days pre-date. If he deigns to open his eyes for more than a couple seconds, I'll try to get some more inviting face shots soon.

Waiting for...

Still waiting for baby. Rocket has been to the doctor's and the hospital four times in the past week. Fluids low at doctor's office last week: 2l IV at hospital last Tuesday, another 3l on Thursday. (She was at the hospital for nearly 11 hours!) Okay, they're up enough... too early to induce unless we have to... let's wait until full term. (Sunday was 37 weeks). Come see me Monday. Monday... long, frustrating time at doctor's office. Upshot: Fluids again marginal, but not low. Baby kicking, breathing, heart-rate normal. Let's wait and see. Come back Wednesday... er, no, office too busy then, come back tomorrow.

Nature! You can't live with it, you can't live without it. So, we just waits.

Lonely breaks

I think the hardest part of being my type of entrepreneur/researcher is how lonely it gets. The chance meetings in the hallways (Hello Peter Hi Articulate) are about all I get.

I no longer expect email to bring me unexpected news, or for the telephone to ring from some unrecognized area code. I remain surprised, when on occasion I notice someone having found my somewhat neglected Personal Research Website by searching for [My Real Name]. But they never call or write. Not lately.

I don't expect it anymore. It's all on me. It all depends on me solving some of the problems I've laid before me. First things first. I've been working on this major unresolved issue. I keep organizing my thoughts in notes, modifying them, commenting on them, saving version after version, printing them out, dating and signing them, then pasting them into my patent notebook, just in case I ever need to document when I arrived at an idea, to set precedence over someone else making claims of priority.

And I understand that the loneliness (at work) will remain unchanged at least until I've got these proofs-of-concept complete, until I've made some demos, hopefully garnered some clients, at least stimulated some interest. At a typical workplace, we take breaks. We talk to colleagues around the copy machine, or in the hallways. I've no colleagues here, just office neighbors. Someday, I'll be once again surrounded by intelligent, enthusiastic, exuberant, committed, stimulating people. But for now, it's just me and Moose*.

_________
* Long time readers may recall my laptop was named Di. My seven-month-old desktop is Moose. Say hello, Moose.

Freesias and noise

They've been ripping up the street outside my office for a week. Jackhammers constant. Fun.

I won't make it my sole excuse. I'm having trouble concentrating. Bit by bit. I'm working... just not quite as efficiently as I'd like.

I took a walk to Trader Joe's (in a strip mall adjacent to my office building). I bought some juice and snacks, and a pot of freesias. All the plants in my office have died, each in its own time. The last of them passed by the time I returned after New Year's. I had brought the pots home, in hopes that I might refill them with something else (a project to do with the boys).

I cleaned my desk, and set the lovely flowerpot in the middle. I'm trying to drown out the road noise with internet music. Got to remember to bring in some CDs. I hate to dilute my thinking (or dilute my listening attention) by working to music. But sometimes (like now) it's needed.

[SIGH]. Back to work.

Envy

Last month, I wrote a piece on what I termed Freudensorge, suffering at another's joy. There's another emotion that has crept up on me lately, one which I believe has power to teach, to reveal hidden desires, to uncover the secrets of our longing: Envy.

Around the same time, I penned the post mentioned above, I received an email from a friend of mine, letting me know that his long awaited book on a subject close to both of our hearts had been published. I wrote him back just after the new year, to say congratulations, and thanks for keeping me informed of his doings, and about conferences and such, and to let him know that I've dropped out of the rat-race for a faculty post. He responded, encouraging me to keep up with my research: "Hang in there, and keep in touch." He suggested he'd like to send me a copy of his book (the first book I know of where my work is cited), and asked what address to send it to. Yesterday, it arrived, inscribed "with warm regards". It means a lot to me.

He's a fine scholar and researcher. I envy him. He received a PhD from Harvard about 10 years ago. Immediately he was offered a job at a research institute, where he's been ever since. I envy the relative ease of his path. I don't know all the details; perhaps I fool myself. Most off all, I envy that he was able to produce a dissertation in a pathbreaking area (very close to my own interests), and that he has been able to spend his professional career, working in that area, researching, publishing, presenting on the subject, all the while fully supported in doing so.

When I was young, I dreamt of being a poet, lying under trees by day, reflecting on the world in verse, and having a patron who sustained me in this enterprise. But I grew up... a bit. I have dreamt of the life of the mind. I had hoped in a PhD that I would be able to pursue something new, something true, something remarkable. I'm proud of the paper I submitted to my committee, which garnered me those three letters. It was a start.

I have dreamt of the ability to spend a career being me, pursuing questions that struck my mind as worthwhile to pursue, asking questions that have not been asked before, or finding answers that others had not found. I envy the ability to do those things.

And what prevents me? What holds me back? The easy answer is money. We need money to live. And yet, for now, we have enough. We have enough to sustain us likely for a couple years without worry.

I think of Bill Gates, and Oprah Winfrey. They might have disappeared many years ago. But they did not. I do not envy them their wealth. At a certain point, there is no need for more. Though I confess I never thought I'd say it, I envy them. But I envy them because they have stayed, because they have not left the field, they have not disappeared. They followed a path that they set before themselves, and they've continued along it, even when the sidewalk ended, blazing trails of their own making. It doesn't make me want to purchase the latest Windows operating system, or the current copy of O Magazine at the checkout stand. But I envy them nonetheless.

Yes, I want success. But what is success? Perhaps, success is the freedom (inward as well as outward) to pursue those things that fire our passions, and the courage to continue the pursuit no matter what. I think of Rembrandt, his rise to fame and fortune, then his precipitous fall. He died in poverty, forgotten, forsaken. But even to the end (you can see it in his late self-portraits), he continued, honing that vision, his remarkable vision to see light, to sense it even in darkness (cultivated as a child, growing up in the darkness of his father's mill). I have long envied him, even if I seek to avoid the conditions in which he died.

It's not money or the lack of it that makes us who we are. Fame and fortune are incidental, as are poverty and obscurity. I no longer believe that those who are lucky are necessarily those most worthy (nor for that matter the least worthy). They are merely lucky. But luck does not ensure their happiness; no more than its lack ensures misery.

Whatever I do, wherever the path leads (wherever my meandering takes me), against all odds, even when the odds are with me, in success and in failure, most of all (and this is what I envy), I want to continue.

Regaining lost momentum

I find myself these days, retracking my steps, trying to understand where I was in August, when my momentum in research and programming began to traipse off. Yes, I still have a few things on my plate. I've decided not to prep a talk for Industry Conference 2008 (though I'll plan on going). Rather, I plan to have some proofs-of-concept and some demos prepped for the conference, with the intention to show them around selectively. Just because I won't be presenting publicly, doesn't mean I have to let the opportunity pass for drumming up interest. It also affords me the chance to require non-disclosure agreements from anyone I'll be showing, which I couldn't likely do for a presentation.

I find that some of my thinking has clarified, some questions have been answered, and in general my approach has matured since I was in the heat of things last summer. However, it's that impetus that I need to regain. I cleared my whiteboard, and wrote at the top:

First things First!
-Proof-of-concept
--[Major unresolved issue!]

It's that one issue that I hadn't completed back in August or September, that I still hadn't clarified when I met with the programmers I had hoped to hire in October, and which I let fester in the interim. And it's that one little issue that will make all of these points come together. It's that one little point that serves as fulcrum.

And I've danced around it this past week, unable to find the foothold for my energies to concentrate on the problem enough to make strides. I've been reading up on the state of the art so to speak (in a recent text from my wishlist that my inlaws got me for my birthday), and several patents that have recently been filed in the area I am working. There are still holes in what's out there, holes which I fully expect my patches to fill. But then, who can be certain when doing something new? Was Thomas Edison certain? It's a trick question!

Of course, he was certain... but about what? I am certain that I have a contribution to make to the field in which I have endeavored. I am certain that this is far more enjoyable to me at the moment than the alternative. I am certain that I will come up with something, that I will learn from each failure, each imperfect attempt. I'm just not certain if this one will work... or another 229 light bulbs down the road.

The artist, the critic, & the chef

More fun this weekend with the D200.

Croquet Art collaboration:

Croquet Art critique:

A chef's penetrating eyes:

Industry Conference 2008

Just noticed a recent email announcing the deadline for submissions to present at [Applied Research Industry Conference 2008], January 18.

Now I've still got some things on my plate: got to finish this brief bio of the protagonist of my dissertation, due January 28; need to prepare an abstract by next Friday for this book contribution that I didn't really have enough desire to shirk; and now the possibility of preparing a proposal for [ARIC 2008].

If I don't submit for [ARIC] in the next week, it means I won't be presenting there until August 2009! So, while I haven't completed these proofs-of-concept, I've got enough done that I'm confident I'd have something significant to show by this August in New York. Trick is, I won't have a patent yet, and might likely not have filed one by then either. I fear I might get ready for everything, then get advice from my attorney that it'd be too risky to present it publicly before filing patent papers. If it's public domain (or arguably so), I may forfeit patentability. The question is, could I show enough to raise eyebrows, harness interest, but not risk giving it all away?

It's a tough call. On the one hand, if I submit, and it gets accepted, I've set myself a deadline (normally a good thing) for preparing presentation quality materials. I could always pull out later, on legal counsel, but that might not be a good precedent to set. On the other hand, I could simply wait until I've polished everything before sending it out, even if that'd mean a possible delay of a year before wide distribution.

Stepping down

Dear Bidar & Evan,

The deadline for abstracts is creeping up, and I've been dragging my feet. I assure you this is not due to any recently acquired lack of interest or commitment to the subject. The conference in June was a break in the clouds from the otherwise dreary gloom I've had since completing my dissertation March 2004. It's a simple matter of having spent the past three years as a PhD unable to gain a foothold in academia, beyond the overwork, miserable pay, and lack of benefits that are offered to adjunct faculty in the States. After ~150 applications for permanent faculty posts, I've determined it time to move on.

I've yet to obtain any funding or institutional support for my [Longitudinal Project], without which the endeavor has stalled. I have found however a renewed commitment to my research, and a hope that I can muster practical applications from it before my savings run out. My current efforts deal with [brief description]. While I intend to keep up research in the area of [subject of the conference last June, where I gave a plenary address], it may simply have to wait until I have sufficient income to support my family (growing now, with our third son due to arrive in the next month). After having spent the past several years supporting me and the boys, my wife is intent to take a few years hiatus from being an engineer. The upshot is, at the moment, I'm not sure just what I might contribute to the planned volume, and regretfully withdraw.

I hope this missive meets you both well, and that you will understand my situation.

All best regards, with hope that we shall remain in touch,

Articulate

_______________________________
*****Updated to add reply from Bidar*****

Dear Articulate

Many thanks for your heartfelt email. I can certainly understand and appreciate your frustration with job hunting. The American job market is prohibitively competitive.

It is a great disappointment to me that you will be unable to offer something for the volume, and I would strongly encourage you to reconsider. The volume has a very strong array of contributors and your own work would complement it well.

All best wishes,

Bidar
______
Chairman, Department of [Field 1]
General Editor, [Journal] [Publisher]
General Editor, [Book series] [Publisher]

*****End reply from Bidar*****

_____________________
Now, what to do? I am torn. What are my measures? What determines worth and value? How do I decide where to expend my energies?

*****Updated to add my response****

Dear Bidar,

Alright... I reconsider. But I won't be able to get you an abstract by sundown. If I get you one by next Friday (18 Jan) will that do?

Best,

Articulate

The first two

A few weeks ago, RocketMom and I finally bought ourselves a 10th wedding anniversary gift, a Nikon D200 digital SLR. Years ago, in a former life, I was an active photographer, seriously intending a career as a photojournalist. I was the photo editor of the campus newspaper, my second year of college, back in 1984-85. I had a dark room, and spent many long, dark hours, alone with my film, chemicals, and paper.

That was then. We bought a Nikon, since I could still use my old lenses. I LOVE IT! As I come out of my shell, more and more, casting off not only the raiment of the academic job seeker, but a bit of the motivation for my anonymity (namely the fear that some potential employer might find my blog), I can't help but share some shots of my boys (the first two). You'll have to wait (like the rest of us) for pictures of #3.

The Inventor

The Painter, drawing (naturally!)

They, two!

Lemon Peeled

I was going through my wallet, and realized I still had my Lemon University faculty ID prominently situated at the front of my card slots. ... I removed it.

A small gesture. I continue to slough off the skin of that life.

Slowly returning

Back in the office today. The Painter returned to kindergarten today. I'm still not a morning person. I got up around 7:15 nonetheless.

New routines: I drop the Painter at school in the morning, then head to my office. RocketMom picks him up. I'll be heading home shortly. 8:00-4:00. That should be a good schedule. Once the baby arrives (or perhaps sooner) I'll be picking #1 up at school as well, maybe having lunch at home, then heading back for a few more hours work.

Work! ... I keep checking my old Lemon email account periodically, just in case there's any contact. Haven't received anything for about a week or so. That's fading. Soon enough, I'll simply let it go.

Work. ... I opened up some old files on my computer today, reviewing and commenting on my notes from last spring and summer. Getting my feet wet again, trying to recall how to swim. I know it's in there. I was doing quite well on this journey before I started teaching again. Lemon sucked up so much of my time and energy. That is a lesson well learned. Don't get me wrong: I do love teaching. It's just I've made a choice. Today, the research is more important to me, certainly more important than adjunct servitude. And, as by my choice, it beats all hell out of continuing the academic job search.

Slowly, I've been sending out emails to colleagues and friends, letting them know the shifts in my trajectory. Slowly. That's a good word for me now.

I realized that we have yet much to figure out before we move. Despite what I wrote on Friday, it's more likely that we'll move in the summer than sooner. On top of our decisions specific to the move (and dealing with a new arrival at home), I've got to get as much research and programming done as possible. The more the technology is filled out and tested, the more I've worked up a plan for my business, the better off we'll be. I'm hoping to have as much a leg up on getting clients (and possibly investors) before we move as possible.

A thousand mile journey begins with small steps.

Halfway back

Got into my office today around noon. It's the first I've been in the office (other than to grab something) since my inlaws came to visit December 26. Rocket had a doctor's appointment this morning, so I had to stay with the boys.

I did some purging from my office bookshelves, taking down about a dozen books or so to bring home. I've got this short bio to write and send off next week. I'm leaning against working on this book chapter, though I'd like to write the co-editors (one of whom I've known for a decade, and the other who organized the conference last June in the UK, and who invited me to speak). I plan to simply write to them my thinking and see what they say.

What is my thinking? I'm walking away from the academic job search. I'm done with that. I've begun to turn away from habits, attitudes, and behaviors I had acquired principally out of that process. I don't need any more "lines on my CV". I've got quite enough, and they've done nothing to help me get where I'm going. I need new measures for determining worth and value for my efforts.

What will this task accomplish? Will that get me further along the path I wish to travel? Or will it simply hold me where I am, costing energy and effort, that might be better spent on other things?

My research must be paramount. Within about a month, we'll have a new baby at home. Hopefully come March or April we'll be ready to move to our next home, though it may be May or June. We've got a lot of research to do on that count, to ascertain and decide where best suits our needs and desires, and all the logistics of how to move, and get insurance, where to live (to rent or buy), what sort of office or workspace can we set up for me. I'm going to order a bunch of boxes from U-Haul, and start packing things up pretty soon.

But I need to keep up my research. I need to work up these proofs-of-concept, hopefully before we move. I need to follow through on my hopes and dreams. And I need to ward off as many distractions as possible. Today, I'm halfway back. Monday a new passage begins.

Keeping Bridges

One recent astute observation from my father-in-law accosts me. My in-laws are visiting us this week. I had mentioned that I hadn't decided on whether to prepare the abstract for the book chapter I'd tentatively agreed to write. He said simply: well, it's always good to keep bridges open.

Indeed.

I've recently been urging Rocket to be accepting of all her selves, to listen to them, not too hastily reject one for another. It is complexity that makes us whole. Who really plays one role in life?

And so, I think of Trillwing's hyphenation. It's funny what listening to our advice to others can do. Right now, as I shrug off the vestment of the seeker of a professorship, it is not always easy to see without bias, to accept without acrimony, that I still do love the academy, that scholarship is a true part of my being.

I am disappointed, yes. But then, I am sometimes disappointed with my children. That does nothing to diminish my love for them. [How odd to pose myself now as parent to the academy, I who have ever been its child, lavishing in its warmth (even when that "warmth" has proven bitter cold)]. Who among us plays one role?

I think of a line from one of my mother's (rare) poems ... and the parents now appear as children...

I do pass into the next chapter of my life, but (like Kundera perhaps) I shall weave an essence through it all that binds one to the other.

I grieve

I grieve for the prospects of peace and democracy in my world. I grieve for the chances of the next generation to rise above the violence and destruction that are visited upon this planet right now.

Benazir Bhutto was assassinated today.

***Updated to say***

Pakistan blames "al-Qaeda". Oh yeah... and we of course should always trust our "good friends" and "allies"... you know the ones who sold nuclear secrets to Iran, North Korea, and Libya, especially the undemocratically elected seized "President" who immediately pardoned the scapegoat nuclear scientist A.Q. Khan...

Yes, of course, we should always trust the word of tyrants and dictators, especially when we are motivated like our "dear leader" George Bush to "spread democracy around the world."

Please! Let leadership and sanity return to my world!

Baked Mango Chicken with Rice

This experiment turned out well, so I thought I'd share it.

• 1 cup (uncooked) rice (I opted for Vietnamese red rice).
• 2 cups chicken stock
• 2-3 cups water
  
• one medium onion, slivered
  
• one whole mango, diced
• 1 large (or 2 medium) carrot(s), coarsely chopped
• 4 chicken thighs (about 1 pound)
• Seasoning to taste (I used salt, pepper, and paprika)

Preheat oven to 350F. Spread rice along bottom of a 9 x 13" roasting pan. Pour in stock and water. Set on stove top over high heat to bring just to a boil. Meanwhile saute onions in a little olive oil (or butter). Add to rice mixture. Prepare mango and carrot; add to rice mixture. Brown chicken in onion saute pan. Add to rice mixture. About now, the liquid in the rice mixture should come just to a boil. Turn off stove, and carefully slide pan into oven. Cover with foil. Heat for 40 minutes to an hour (my chicken was not fully defrosted before I browned, so it took just over an hour). Check chicken for doneness after 40 minutes. Leave uncovered in oven for the last 5-10 minutes to brown the skin, if desired.

That's it.

Holding Pattern

No, that does not describe my holiday travels. We, in fact, are staying home.

If you didn't know, there's not an airline around who'll accept to fly a woman who is 34-weeks pregnant without a doctor's order; and there are few of us who could afford the bribe necessary to get a doctor to write such an order, or the one necessary to get an entire flight of passengers and crew to pretend they don't notice. All that said, what woman 34-weeks pregnant would even want to fly?

Chanukah was pleasant and mostly uneventful. Rocket's folks will arrive to visit for a week on December 26. I've decided that I'll mostly take the week off. Hence the holding pattern.

I've realized I'm in that odd state between things where the old is not quite extinguished, and the new not yet inflamed. It's finding the energy to clear out the ashes in between that takes the most effort.

I started writing the brief bio I committed to. I'm still undecided on the book chapter. I'll yet have more than a week to deal with that after the new year.

I spent a little time looking over things. I've got a white board on the wall facing my desk that is filled with projects and ideas for my research firm. I've hardly looked at it these past couple months. I glanced over some of the attempts I had made in September, before I was mistakenly led to believe I'd be getting programming help for my proofs-of-concept. It's been eight months since I defined the first proof-of-concept, which I had initially hoped to have for August, then wished to complete by the end of the year. I've been clearing away the hurdles and debris that have been holding me back.

I back-burnered my research when the term began at Lemon four months ago; it's going to take me a bit of time to get back into a routine. But that's exactly what I intend to do. This (teaching at Lemon) was a good experiment for me, one which failed, but which nonetheless taught me something. The summer had been quite productive for me. I was excited and impassioned. I had hopes that I'd be able to continue that, while also teaching adjunct.

Now I realize that teaching (82 students as the term began, eventually dropping to 75 in the end) consumed far more time and energy than I had expected (not to mention the 9-12 hours weekly commute), and was thus incompatible with my plans to make strides in my research. When it's a choice between teaching and research, it's the latter that most drives me.

It will be a couple weeks until both Rocket and I are settled into our new roles (I, no longer the teacher; she, no longer the actively employed). I suppose just when we think we've settled, son #3 will arrive and upset the apple cart again. There are no deadlines for life. What remains for us now is to learn (once again) how to live.

Clearing the decks

My ship is tethered to shore, firmly holding against wind and waves in this protected inlet, yet like an eager horse, tied to post, awaiting freedom to fly.

I need to clear the decks, in preparation for the journey. A few weeks ago, I agreed to pen a brief (2000 words) biography of my dissertation protagonist, for a set of library volumes. It's not so much. I considered writing my regrets, and recommending a colleague (the one who got the post I almost had three years ago). But it won't hold me down too long. A commitment is still a commitment.

Then, there's a book chapter (culminating from the conference I gave a plenary address at last summer in the UK). I'm supposed to prepare an abstract for that by January 11, and a final chapter submission by end of October 2008. Should I still write it? Does it matter any more?

I wonder at these little milestones, that I used to believe meaningful, that might have served in my tenure portfolio as evidence of productiveness. Now I view it more as tying up loose ends, not disappointing those counting on my word, not cheapening my word by backing out. But they hold little meaning for me anymore, little hope that their reach shall be broad.

I am sad.

Today is different though. The sadness does not consume me. There is no depression in my heart. Resentment has left me. I am me, unadorned, free. There are choices that I have made in my life, commitments that I will hold to. I have a family I adore.

And... I have dreams, and passions. I met my wonderful wife in 1994 as we both entered graduate school. We've passed through many things since then. I wondered out loud the other night, which one my many selves it was that Rocket fell in love with. She replied that she fell in love with a dreamer, overflowing with passion and ideas.

Let the dreams begin (again)!

Pouring out a full cup

Dear Tasse,

It's been a tour. As we face the new year 2008, I've decided the tour will end. I am no longer seeking a faculty position in academia. I resigned my "part-time" position at Lemon as of the term just ended. Working 25-30 hours a week plus a 10 hour weekly commute (for $6000 take home pay!) left me little time or energy to pursue anything beyond lecture preps and grading. Teaching 75 students is not part-time work. And for such pay, and no benefits, its rewards pale against the cost.

I leave with a great deal of sorrow and disappointment. A PhD does not mean what I thought it had. The academy is not the place I thought it was. It is the temple at which I have worshipped virtually all my life, believing knowledge and inquiry to be its principals. It seems I was deceived. It's sad to leave, but surprisingly not so hard.

I've come to believe that (surely some, including you, had tried to open my eyes to this) academia is not a welcoming home for me and my ideas. Although I still love teaching, and I have no doubts that I am a good teacher (my student evaluations, and gratuitous comments, attest to that), my commitments are not compatible with what has been and remains expected of a professor of [Field 1]. I realize (in part, teaching adjunct at Lemon has helped in this regard) that most of the jobs I might have eventually gained would have left me wondering why I had struggled so long to attain them.

I will be forging off on my own, building my research into something beneficial and marketable. I am confident that my ideas are worthwhile, that I will be able to accomplish some good with them. The only questions that remain are when, and whether our savings will last us long enough. I thank you for your support and encouragement these past many years. Be well.

Yours,
Articulate
___________________________________

Dear Articulate:

Thanks for your note. As you know, I am always ready to stand behind you and your work. I know that no one has tried more than you to make things work, and I admire your courage and your persistence.

As usual, warmest wishes to you and your family.

Best,
Tasse

Painful goodbye

Briefly (since it's after 1:00, and I'll be up with the boys by 7:00). I've finished grading the final exams for the second class. Now all that remains is to register grades for my first class, and calculate (and double check) the grades for this second one, then register them as well.

On both exams, the final essay question was essentially: What did you learn in this class, and how might you use that in your life and career moving forward? I asked for specifics, but left them room to expand on their real thoughts. I found it the sort of question that would force them to reflect on the term, especially important since both of my classes were Gen. Ed.

I was impressed and moved by many of the comments. Perhaps I'll share some of the pith in the coming days. I found myself in tears at times, realizing that I did touch these students. How much ever more painful it is then for me to walk away. These kids deserve a teacher like me. But I deserve so much better than Lemon (or any other institution I've applied to) has been willing to give me.

Damn, it hurts to go!

Freudensorge

There is an often neglected corollary to Schadenfreude, what one might call Freudensorge, to suffer at another's joy. For three years that has been for me (shamefully) a recurring condition. I say this not to defend it, nor to excuse it, but simply to acknowledge it. I am human after all. Behind the mask of strength and self-confidence I wear for myself, to convince myself that it is all worth it, that I will at long last find myself a home, a niche, a place to be, I am still imperfect.

For three years, since receiving my PhD, and being shoved unceremoniously out the door, I've been shat upon (in part I admit by my own expectations, in part I'm now convinced by my lack of whatever it takes to interview well). In all this, I remain confident of my abilities, my teaching (confirmed by my students' continuing remarks), and my research (in some ways perhaps unconfirmed, but nonetheless clear to me). And yet, three years is a long time to go with little reward, little applause. I've been lucky to have retained the love and support of my wonderful wife. Yet that too, that support (that lack of need to support myself), has been a mixed blessing, saving me from poverty, but shielding me from necessity.

I've floundered a bit, in search of my place. Three years! Application after application. I don't feel sorry for myself (at least not any more). I try not to let the anger, the frustration, the sadness consume me. It's rather futile I know. Yet it's hard to hear of others' success, their moving on to bigger and better. I wonder about friends I've lost touch with. I just looked up a blogger I used to know as Dryden. As it turns out, he has landed himself a tenure-track gig.

Is it just me? I'm sure it's not. No self-pity, right? I know that I could stick it out. Others have done it for longer, and finally achieved what they sought. I could have remained at Lemon. It was handed to me in unsubtle terms that I could stay an adjunct there for as long as I wanted. But I didn't want. I wasn't willing to hang on any more. For me, three years has been enough. I've finally accepted that the tenure-track faculty job I've spent so much effort chasing may not in fact be the right one for me. Cut your losses.

Is it failure? It doesn't really feel that way, though surely I would have like to have had a job that I might decide wasn't ideal, than to have spent so much time seeking one, only to back out now. Better late than never.

As I've advised others to do, I feel that Rocket and I are driving. We're in charge of our lives, our choices, our decisions. It's all calculated risk. But that doesn't lessen the apprehension. After three years of rejection, it's only human to be just a bit unsure of my own worthiness. This is the choice I make.

Wish me well, my friends. I promise to shirk Freudensorge, as I can.

The door is closed

I've shut the door behind me. I must say, it's quite warm on this side, without the breeze, drying me, causing myself to constantly replenish warmth and moisture. That wind has taken much from me. But it has taught me some as well. Goodbye breeze, I'll remember you. But... I doubt I'll miss you much.

I feel at the moment, not resentment, not envy, not frustration, but opportunity pure and simple. I am ready for this. These past few days, I've had the chance to reflect. Each of those emotions welled up for a time. But they've left me. What remains... is me.

Today, I took the boys for a hike. The Painter had been asking to walk to the top of a mountain. It was nice. Driving through the hills, surrounded on all sides with impressive--some gaudy, some beautiful--mansions, I was able to smile mostly, not with envy, simply perhaps... appreciation.

I don't know who lives in those houses. Many were decorated for the season (funny to see snowmen over green grass, beside orange trees). Real people live there. People with children and lives. Some of them for sure are cutthroats, making money by taking advantage of others; some perhaps inherited their money; some likely worked their way out of poverty. It doesn't really matter. I don't know them. I just see the outside of their houses, like seeing someone's jacket or their hair.

A nice leather coat looks warm. A full head of curly hair may look right or wrong. I feel no need to judge. But that, alone because I've realized I don't want their lives. All I need is my own. And that is just fine with me. Perhaps some day I will live in an impressive mansion. Perhaps not. Either way, it's not the house that will make me happy, as I'm sure it's not the houses I see that make their inhabitants happy or miserable as the case may be.

I thought I envied those friends or colleagues or strangers who had faculty posts, especially those who moved seamlessly from graduate school to professor. But I don't. And I don't resent them either. Their lives, their choices.

I think of Rocket's friend Kay. A couple weeks ago they spoke on the phone for about an hour. One thing that Rocket told me made me laugh, but in a sad sort of way. Kay (mother of two) explained that she plans to quit working for her current employer when her first child graduates from college. He's 5! She says she likes the work fair enough, but she doesn't feel appreciated there. She's been passed over for promotions several times. So... she's only going to stick it out another 13 years!

Um... words fail me. Why anyone would remain in a situation that makes them unhappy... I simply cannot fathom. I've been miserable looking for a faculty post. As I had anticipated, my stint at Lemon has been an eye-opener, a chance to get my feet wet, to see how I settled with faculty life. Truth is, while I love teaching, there is much about the job that I don't love.

Sometimes I wish to be the victim, to blame someone else for my misery. But, I'm not really happy being miserable, even when there is someone to blame. And so, I take full responsibility for my life. I've been unhappy at Lemon. It is my choice alone to leave, which (just as soon I've submitted my grades) is done.

But it's not just being an adjunct. I think about friends of mine who have those (erstwhile enviable) tenure-track positions that when I'm honest with myself I wouldn't really wish to have. What do I want? What are my priorities? I enjoyed being a graduate student. I enjoyed the freedom of it, the freedom to pursue my intellectual interests. Freedom for me. No one stood in my way. Freedom for me, because I appealed to the faculty to replace several of the program's requirements with courses from other departments, and I had an advocate in my advisor who was willing to pull for me.

For whatever reason they approved my reworked curriculum. I forged a truly interdisciplinary program, and participated fully in a cross-disciplinary emphasis (essentially a minor), which wasn't recognized by my department (thus rather than having it listed on my degree, my file includes a letter from the chair of the emphasis, the president of the graduate council, and the chair of my department attesting to my exemplary completion of the requirements). I passed my comprehensive exams; and the four on my committee approved my dissertation. Case closed. I'm a PhD.

The problem has been that in the midst of pursuing that goal, I settled into believing it should culminate in a faculty post. I coasted in the cart, expecting someone would knock at the door as it passed through towns, asking if I might not kindly come teach for them. Truth is, I'm not very good at coasting. I've learned I'm rather bad at getting my foot in doors with cover letters (though a few succeeded); and I'm even worse at interviewing for faculty posts. Funny that's what it comes down to--not whether I'm good at teaching or researching (both of which I am--I have no shame in that confidence), but rather whether I'm good at interviewing. No shame in that skill either; it's just one I seem to lack.

And so, here I am, finally, fully behind a closed door. And I stand overlooking a garden of delight, sheltered and protected in a greenhouse of my own design. Oh so much pruning and planting to do. Time to get my hands dirty (again)!

Suddenly Dad

Today, I administered the first of my two finals. Several of the students wished me well or embraced me, knowing they might never see me again, thanking me "for everything". I have yet one more final to write and administer (on Wednesday night). Then lots and lots of grading.

D, our au pair since the end of July has found a new family. We decided to forego the extension. We just couldn't justify the expense for a need we no longer felt we had. But she'll be leaving us suddenly, tomorrow! I wish her well. She was able to watch the boys today, which helped. Rocket will plan to be home early on Wednesday, so I can head into traffic by 4:30 (necessary for me to get down there in time to grab a bite before the exam begins at 7:00).

Rocket is officially telecommuting two days per week, so we'll likely both work from home on tomorrow and Thursday (I, mostly or entirely just grading), trading off keeping the boys company. I'll be on full-time dad duty during the day Wednesday and Friday, and through Thursday of next week, as she finishes up her loose ends. Friday would normally be a day off for her (still on the 9-80 schedule)... making Thursday her final day.

That's the end of something. We're all home then, suddenly! For now, I'll still keep my office, and will plan to keep plugging away on patent development and coding my proofs-of-concept. But I'm no longer on anybody's schedule but my own. I suspect I'll be content to work 5 or 6 hours a day.

We'll have time to leisurely pack over the next couple months, to purge, throw away, give away, or donate whatever we can do without. We've got research to do about where precisely we'll be moving, and about our options for moving our things. We've got to research about health insurance. I'm no longer expecting Miwla to call (though of course they may yet). I can't say that I won't be half-relieved if they don't. Then the decision is easier to make. I won't have to consider whether their offer represents something good, bad, or neutral.

In the meantime, I've been selling off equities holdings, and transferring more of our money into bonds and cash. I'd like to keep a year to 18-months liquid and accessible. If we decide to buy a place, we'll need the cash for a down-payment. We'll just have to see.

One at a time:

• Exam #2: write and administer
• Enjoy my boys
  
• Grade both exams, final assignments, extra credit
• Enjoy my boys
  
• Register grades
• Enjoy my boys
  
• Celebrate our freedom!
• Plan for the next chapter
• Prepare for and enjoy the birth of #3
• Move on
  

The journey is good.

Rebirth

I feel a weight, the weight of a heavy coat, or coat of armor, one that has embraced me, and protected me, though at times constricted as well, lifting, leaving me standing naked.

Today is my last lecture at Lemon. Part of me believes this may be my final lecture anywhere. It is a frightening event. I can't quite say a sad day. Birth is frightening as well, a great violence. And yet, there is something on the other side, a light, as well as cold air. For a newborn, there are people and love.

What will there be for me?

Perhaps I am like the fallen angels in Wings of Desire. The coat of armor will land on my head. But the colors of a world I have only ever before seen in stark contrasts will emerge.

Was ist das?
Grau-blau...

And so... I step lightly. Who knows, the call may yet come. Either way, I walk through a door.

Home stretch

I got through grading all the final projects for my Wednesday evening class. It was unexpectedly quite a pleasure to do. I had described to my students that my view of exams and assignments is that (at best) they should serve (like scenes in a good show) to propel the action, rather than interrupt it. The exams should not be simply assessing their mastery of what's come before, but should serve to further and deepen their understanding of the material.

With this project I feel that I truly did challenge the students to better understand the material of the course, to personalize it, to get under the hood so to speak. It does me good to feel I'm making a difference in their lives.

On Tuesday, at the beginning of class, I announced that the department secretary would be coming to administer the teacher evaluations at the end of the class. I said that I'd like them to be completely honest, because they'll mean far more to me than to the school, since I wouldn't be returning. There was an audible collective sigh, and a shocked, "You're not coming back?" "Why not?". I said I would take two minutes to explain, then leave it. I said that I found it abhorrent, disgusting, and insupportable that 55% of the faculty at their school were part-timers, underpaid, overworked, without benefits. I said that my choice to leave was not because I didn't enjoy teaching them, but about the institutional policies, and my personal priorities. They seemed truly disappointed, not so much with me, but that I'd be gone.

I got a nice email from one of those students today, explaining that they were all sad I'd be leaving, noting that they can all tell that I really care about them, about what they learn, and how it might apply to their lives, and thanking me for that. He said he truly hopes I continue teaching after I leave Lemon. It warms the heart. And saddens me a bit as well. For the moment, I have one last chance to continue teaching. I'm tired. If not Miwla, I'm walking away from academia, at least for a time.

One of my student's essays reported (a bit off topic, I might add) that she's spent the past 16 years in school, and how as she stands on the verge of graduating, she's a bit apprehensive about the world beyond. I know the feeling. But I've graduated, numerous times. I've walked in and out of those portals enough for the paths to be familiar. Different shapes, different materials, but somehow the same. I've heard the pomp of celebrations. And I've smelled the must of libraries. I've grown up with the computer technologies that surround us (I remember learning BASIC in middle school; I wrote papers on typewriters and "word processors"; I well recall my PC XT, on which I wrote my Master's thesis). The academy has been my world. But, when you've got one foot in and one foot out, it's only a matter of time before you step to one side, and close the door.

[I'm overcome with emotion, as I write that.]

When dead horses ride

I feel at times like I'm stuck in an episode of Seinfeld, where dropping hints seem to have the opposite effect. On November 19, I wrote to a couple guys I had met with back in September in response to their contact of November 18 to say:

My interest at this point is simply to hire a programmer on a contract ("work for hire") basis to assist me in the coding of some proof-of-concept tools, translating my algorithms into executables. As I've said, if all goes well, I'll have much more need for programming in the future.

I fear we're at an impasse. The agreement you sent countermands the entirety of the non-disclosure agreement ("This Agreement and any documents referred to in this Agreement contain the entire agreement between the Parties with respect to the subject matter hereof and supersede all previous agreements and understandings between the Parties with respect hereto.")

I'm no lawyer, and I don't have the staff to negotiate fine points of contract. The relationship I seek is simply translating my algorithms into executable code. The non-disclosure agreement protects my interests. I have indicated what I'm willing to offer in terms of compensation (and bonus) for your part.

The only sort of service agreement I'd be interested in signing at this point would merely specify those payment terms, and outline the programming work to be done. I'd even be willing to run it by a lawyer to make sure the interests of both parties to the agreement are satisfied. If this is not of interest to you, let me know if there is anyone you recommend who might be interested. You seem to be quite busy with your ongoing projects. I wish you both the best of success.

We spoke that afternoon, and they assured me of their interest in working for me, and promised to prepare a new work agreement by the end of the month. Of course, it was at their insistence that I allowed them to prepare a work agreement in the first place. I had never sought to hire a consultancy. I merely contacted an individual programmer who had done work for a colleague and who was recommended by him for his programming skills. He suggested including his friend, and I agreed to fly the 300 miles to meet with both of them a couple months ago.

About six weeks passed, during which I had heard barely a word from them. I had written them with the specifics of my proposal for hiring them, how much I would pay (including hefty bonuses based on the success of my business over time), and what I would expect from them. Their reply was apologetic. I intoned, in part:

I well know the issues involved in running your own business, since I've been doing it with various ventures since at least 1990. You've got to keep clear lines of communication open with your clients, focus as much as you can on the work of the business rather than its logistics (they will mercilessly suck up your time and energy).

I thought the point (boldface here) was not too subtle. I guessed wrong.

A few days ago, they forwarded me a completely different work agreement, which wasn't quite so badly worded, but which raised many red flags for me. First off, hadn't I written The only sort of service agreement I'd be interested in signing at this point would merely specify those payment terms, and outline the programming work to be done? Well, yes. But they sent me instead a six page document! Aargh!

Hence, my reply of yesterday finally cutting them loose. That as well, apparently, was not enough. I received two more emails from one of them, the one whom I had originally contacted. He first attempted to allay my concerns over the wording about partial credit that I had objected to, and asking just what a I meant by works made for hire. (Um... you ever heard of web search engines? a library? a lawyer? Do your own homework!) Nonethess, I sent him a terse email:

See: http://www.copyright.gov/circs/circ09.pdf.

He responded (yet again) with commentary and quotations challenging the relevance of the cited document on copyright law for the work they would be doing (although the document describes "A software program created within the scope of his or her duties" as an example of work that falls under this category).

Frustrating. What I so much want to write back is:

1. I hear you're a great programmer. Let me know what you charge for legal advice, too.
   
2. I already have good legal counsel, thank you.
3. I'm much better at research than at law. I try to focus on what I'm best at. Something to think about, eh?
4. Oh, gee, thanks for the harassment clarification. I mean, now that I know you're quite adept at arguing obscure points of law, I can be assured you'd be the first to make a claim in court, should my business take off. Gosh, that's the first thing I want to do, hire someone who (what was it you were going to do for me? I mean it's been two months and I haven't seen or discussed any coding) is more interested in forging legal arguments than actually accomplishing any work.

Instead, I write it here, so I can keep silence with them, and let the dead horse lie.

First step, prepare my final three lectures, write and administer final exams, grade exams and papers, submit grades. Next step, get back to clarifying my algorithms. Then, learn C#, and do the programming myself. That'll save us an additional several thousand dollars over the next few months.

Meantime, I try not to wait too anxiously for a call from Miwla College. One way or another, we're ready for our move.

Cutting them loose

Hi Q & A,

I've now had a chance to review the documents you sent over. One point of your proposal stuck out to me:

Client understands that as implementer [Firm] shall receive partial credit for any and all concepts, ideas, theories, insights, discoveries, innovations, and inventions pertaining to the work products specified in this agreement that result in a patent during or after the execution of this agreement.

On this point, I recommend you get yourselves a copy of Nolo's Patents for Beginners, (ISBN 1-4133-0455-9), which may be useful to you moving forward. In particular, p. 140 states: "if one person came up with the concept of the invention, while the other merely built and tested it--the second person is not a co-inventor."

As I wrote previously my interest up to this point has simply been a work-for-hire arrangement with a programmer, to assist me in translating my algorithms into executable code. I am sorry that such a relationship is not in keeping with your plans for [Firm]. Under the circumstances, it appears in my best interest to complete and file the patent applications that I have in process prior to hiring any programming assistance. While I had hoped to prepare the proofs-of-concept in advance of filing, these are not essential to the patents themselves, though potentially beneficial down the road in seeking clients and investors.

I wish you both well, as you move forward with your business and your dreams. I trust that you will abide by the confidentiality agreement that we have all signed, keeping the details of our interactions, and any and all documents provided by me, in confidence. If I have need for your services in the future, I will be sure to contact you.

Best regards,

Articulate