My "office"

My desk is in the cast gallery at the University, with Polykleitos' Doryphoros looking over my shoulder!

Meanwhile, my desk window looks out over the courtyard planted with linden trees, a symbol of jurisprudence.  Linden trees are featured at the center of towns and universities, according to my very knowledgeable landlord.

Follow the bouncing ball

Monday 5/10 - had lunch with my friend Alli; gave a final exam (23 students) at 5:30 pm

Tuesday 5/11 - gave two final exams (33 students) at 7:30 am

Wednesday, 5/12 - all exams graded, grades submitted by 8:00 am, shopping

Thursday, 5/13 - office hours, car to body shop, post office, finished packing with no A/C, nearly electrocuted the maintenance man, took a taxi to the airport, flew to Memphis, flew to Amsterdam

Friday, 5/14 - flew to Munich, lost luggage, took train to Ennstal

Saturday, 5/15 - bought clothes for class on Monday, picked up Scottish-Styrian dirndl, dinner with friends

Sunday, 5/16 - all day at accordion contest in Deutschlandsberg, arrived at my new apartment in Graz at 7:30 pm, reunited with luggage, but too tired to find free bouncing ball image on the internet

Monday, 5/17 - my classes at the University start!

A new blog! - Practical Hedonism

I've started a new blog for people who need a little balance in their life.

Practical hedonism is all about balance. It is a philosophy, a system of checks and rewards which leads to the ultimate satisfaction of a balanced life. In short, we practical hedonists work hard so we can play hard.

Please take a look, send me feedback, and spread the word!

The Funeral Crashers

Another Whiskey Widow has gone off to that big cocktail hour in the sky. Mama Sue and I had a special connection because she was a teacher.  She understood that teaching is hard, but so is learning.  And that teachers teach, not because it brings in a big paycheck, but because we love the interaction with people.

Sue and I also were partners in crime.  When Ms. Verone died, her family deliberately kept the obituary and the funeral information out of the local newspapers to keep out the riff raff.  Sue, being the resourceful woman that she was, called up the big funeral parlor in town and asked when services were scheduled for Ms. Verone.  Then Sue and I crashed the funeral!  When we got there, Verone's daughter-in-law had quite a dilemma:  throw us out on our ear, or play the gracious Southern hostess.  Lucky for us, good breeding won out and we were allowed to pay our respects to Ms. Verone, founder of the Whiskey Widows.

I'm sure that Sue was warmly welcomed into heaven by Verone, Dottie with the Body and Ms. Frances and that they're having one heck of a party with the Man Upstairs!

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Another IRISHsteirisch video, this one from last summer in Dechantskirchen, Austria.  The band opens their concerts with this traditional Austrian Jodler (yodeling song). Enjoy!

Magnolia's Memories

            Friday night I went to Magnolia's Memories, a cemetery tour sponsored by the Foundation for Historical Louisiana.  The tour takes place at Magnolia Cemetery at night and visitors are guided by "spirits" dressed in white robe and wings.  The paths of the cemetery are lined with luminarias and musicians -- harpists, fiddlers, mandolin players -- play unobtrusively in the shadows.  Five or six stations are set up throughout the grounds, with spectator seating and footlights.  Local actors perform scenes from the lives of people who are buried in Magnolia Cemetery.  This year there was Sarah Morgan who wrote a civil war diary and her brother Harry who was killed in a duel; Cecil Morgan (Sarah's nephew) who fought to bring Huey Long to justice; and a police chief who was killed by one of his fellow officers in 1911, played by friend and colleague, Mike Katchmer.    

            My first trip to Magnolia's Memories in 2007 was such a moving experience, not because of the dead, but because of the living.  At the last station, the life of Scotsman John Hill Jr. was reenacted.  A bagpiper introduced him and a kilt-wearing actor came on stage.  But in the shadows beyond, a dark figure roving between the tombstones caught my eye.  I couldn't be sure if I was seeing a person or a phantom, but I couldn't take my eyes off it.  At the end of Hill's performance, the figure stepped out of the shadows.  It was a woman with auburn curls dressed in a dark Irish cape, and when she lifted her face to the spotlight, I thought, "Wow!  That looks like Nikki!" 

            But it couldn't be my friend Nikki, I told myself.  Nikki was too stressed out with work and being pregnant and taking care of two teenagers and a baby.  And Nikki would never have the confidence to sing in front of all these people.  But sing she did, the most moving a capella Scottish hymn.  Her beautiful voice rose above the rustling leaves of the live oak trees and the traffic rushing by on Florida Boulevard.  When she was finished and the tour was over, I walked up to the woman and said, still in disbelief, "Nikki?  Is that you?"  "Joey! I didn't know you would be here!"  I told her how beautifully she'd sung and how everyone would remember her performance.  And I thought to myself, this is a new start for Nikki, a dear soul who had had her unjust share of bad luck, bad health and bad relationships.

            A few weeks later, I sat with Nikki in front of our office building as she waited for a ride.  She was quite unwell.  When her ride came, I escorted her to the car, never dreaming that in the night Nikki would have a stroke.

             She was in the ICU of the hospital when doctors discovered that she also had leukemia. I visited Nikki  four times, and each time she improved a little.  She went from being unable to talk to asking if we could pray.  So on my last visit I led us in prayer, and God truly guided my words.  It was the last time I would see Nikki.  A month after her stroke she died, never having left the hospital.  She was 34 years old.

            I was in Germany when they had the memorial service.  They say Nikki's oldest daughter sang the same hymn that Nikki sang in the cemetery that night. 

            And Friday night, March 12, 2010, I went on the cemetery tour again.  At the end a woman with long dark curls dressed in an Irish cape sang the final hymn, accompanied by a folk quintet.  She looked exactly like Nikki.  I don't know whether that's just what I wanted to see, or because Nikki's spirit is still among the tombstones of Magnolia Cemetery.  

Third time's a charm!

ScriptFrenzy is a sister project to NaNoWriMo which I've tried to do twice (last fall was a disaster, topping out at 4700 words.  Let's just say I was being a bit hubristic, thinking I could write 50,000 words while teaching a writing-intensive Greek and Roman Tragedy course!).  This time, instead of a novel, it's a script.

Why do I think this time will be any different?  First, I've had a script in mind for years, and maybe this will force me to get it down on paper.  Second, for the first time since I got back to the States in July, I actually feel somewhat on top of my game.  Just this week I discovered I have FREE TIME.  Chunks of it.  Time to work on all those projects that have been piling up...

So join me in April for ScriptFrenzy.  It's sure to be a gas!