November 15, 2014

Destined to be cold upstairs until somebody teaches me how to light the gas heater. One space heater is not enough and the second flips a breaker switch.

Class presentations. The brighter ones, the ones destined for grad school, try on academic jargon and reasoning like young gazelles pronking on the plain. It’s charming to hear them employ the buzz words and the shibboleths, trying them on, working into them. I heard “praxis” about fifteen times yesterday. At some point in the past it was “topoi.” One or two visits to academic meetings and the tone is set, the delight passed on.

Went to the concert of the UNCA chorus last night, for S’s sake, as I said, but Melodie was joyful to see me there. The singing was uneven, except for a featured men’s chorus, which was sensational. I could see mostly the altos from where I sat, and they were very earnest and beautiful, their unconscious grace and eagerness reminding me why I linger on in this employment. The theme was Veterans’ Day, and one song used the hymns of all the branches of the service. Melodie asked the vets to stand up when they heard their hymn, and it was unexpectedly touching to see a few old sailors totter to their feet during “Anchors Aweigh,” a clutch of wizened soldiers when the caissons started rolling along. It was a good thing.

Trembling a little at the end of what may be the last terrible week. Taking a breath.