All the News That's Fit to Wash the Daemons Away
More than 6 years ago I bought a shower radio. A radio shower. The jury is still out as to whether this has had a positive or negative impact on my life.
"We drive you from us, whoever you may be"
Friends, I've been struggling all week to passively learn a small juicy part of something to further our academic endeavors. "No one is counting on me," I told myself, "I simply must find something."
But.
Rather than force it, I decided to speak today on a particular mode of passive learning, an exercise in exorcism that I exercise daily (with few exceptions, 1-2 reps). When I first purchased the machine, I set it to an oldies station, hoping (as we are wont to do in these fast times) that by inviting Chuck Berry into my shower my days would more consistently begin on a pleasant note (and, in theory, be more pleasant). The oldies station disappeared (thanks a lot, Clear Channel) and so I turned the knob full to the left, standing, slouching, fully soaped, and diddled until I heard the crisp, clear tones of The Diane Rehm Show's introductory riff. (I don't feel great about the un-italicized apostrophe and 's', but we'll have to leave it there. Research can never be one of our priorities.) The knob has not "knobbed" since that day. It has lost the ability to fulfill its primary purpose. Thank you, lime deposits.
One (we (you (me (Paul)))) might fear this post. [(You (] ask, "How can [(I (] possibly digest a microcosmic variant of what [(me (]'ve come to expect so far? Fear not, [(fearer (], for I've found that I learn absolutely nothing while listening to public radio in the shower.
Alcoholics have a saying that address the phenomenon of returning to the drink after an extended period of sobriety. "Belly full of beer and a head full of AA."
We recovering academics may find comfort in applying this to our dilemma. We shall say, "Belly full of informations, head full of scholarship." And perhaps a third clause, "Research lacking."
I've never particularly enjoyed doing practical research or waking up. Not my style. Typical: cigarette, email, cigarette, cigarette, coffee (optional), this, that, research/shower.
The shower ceremony makes wakefulness official in much the same way the wedding says, "This is, in fact, my wife." This is, in fact, my life. Thank you, shower.
And here, here in this most wet and sacred of chambers, we find public radio. As you may have guessed, I do not wake up at the same time every day. Wakefulness arrives between 6am and 3pm, depending. So this is not another essay on Groundhog Dayism. I do not clockwork-bemoan my station (pun) at 7:23am listening to the same announcer pronounce "what" and "why" in a consistently eerie Southern way, no. This is not that.
After I have crossed the dewy threshold and made my day official, I can not then tell you what news I found in my shower. Why, us, do I keep doing it? Why do I keep turning on the news machine?
But.
Rather than force it, I decided to speak today on a particular mode of passive learning, an exercise in exorcism that I exercise daily (with few exceptions, 1-2 reps). When I first purchased the machine, I set it to an oldies station, hoping (as we are wont to do in these fast times) that by inviting Chuck Berry into my shower my days would more consistently begin on a pleasant note (and, in theory, be more pleasant). The oldies station disappeared (thanks a lot, Clear Channel) and so I turned the knob full to the left, standing, slouching, fully soaped, and diddled until I heard the crisp, clear tones of The Diane Rehm Show's introductory riff. (I don't feel great about the un-italicized apostrophe and 's', but we'll have to leave it there. Research can never be one of our priorities.) The knob has not "knobbed" since that day. It has lost the ability to fulfill its primary purpose. Thank you, lime deposits.
One (we (you (me (Paul)))) might fear this post. [(You (] ask, "How can [(I (] possibly digest a microcosmic variant of what [(me (]'ve come to expect so far? Fear not, [(fearer (], for I've found that I learn absolutely nothing while listening to public radio in the shower.
Alcoholics have a saying that address the phenomenon of returning to the drink after an extended period of sobriety. "Belly full of beer and a head full of AA."
We recovering academics may find comfort in applying this to our dilemma. We shall say, "Belly full of informations, head full of scholarship." And perhaps a third clause, "Research lacking."
I've never particularly enjoyed doing practical research or waking up. Not my style. Typical: cigarette, email, cigarette, cigarette, coffee (optional), this, that, research/shower.
The shower ceremony makes wakefulness official in much the same way the wedding says, "This is, in fact, my wife." This is, in fact, my life. Thank you, shower.
And here, here in this most wet and sacred of chambers, we find public radio. As you may have guessed, I do not wake up at the same time every day. Wakefulness arrives between 6am and 3pm, depending. So this is not another essay on Groundhog Dayism. I do not clockwork-bemoan my station (pun) at 7:23am listening to the same announcer pronounce "what" and "why" in a consistently eerie Southern way, no. This is not that.
After I have crossed the dewy threshold and made my day official, I can not then tell you what news I found in my shower. Why, us, do I keep doing it? Why do I keep turning on the news machine?
"We drive you from us, whoever you may be"
Labels: chuck berry, diane rehm, excorcism, groundhog dayism, informations, passive learning, radio shower, shower radio, wakefulness
posted by Paul at
5:17 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home