Dance as Art

Up until I was 20, I lived my life orthogonal to Dance.  I didn't get it. Not only did I not dance myself, I didn't get it as an art form.  Sure, my friend Jack had taken us all to see that 1985 one-off movie "White Nights"

and I thought it was kinda cool, but only kinda cool because it was so weird and different.  Ballet was something I felt I should like since I was into classical music, but honestly it left me uninspired.

Then, on a whim, I took my girlfriend to see the Margaret Jenkins dance company at Purdue. Well, I was simply blown away.  I thought it was amazing.  It was like going to a dynamic modern art exhibit with a soundtrack.  I really felt like I had never seen something that cool before.*  I went on to catch every modern dance show that came through West Lafayette (there were not many).  

Then, when I moved to Pittsburgh, I bought season tickets to their modern dance series downtown and I caught maybe 4 shows a year from 1993-1995.  I went by myself since I didn't know anyone else who was into it.  I got to see the Martha Graham Dance Company, Alvin Ailey Dance Co,  and many other amazing performances.  The one that really got me was Bill T Jones' Still/Here.  It was the first time (and only 1 of 2 times in my entire life (the other being Nick Cave)) when I was moved to buy a commemorative T-Shirt at the venue.  I still wear it occasionally with reverence to this day.**

After I left Pittsburgh, I kind of left that passion behind.  Pittsburgh was also the place where I actually went out dancing with friends too (the Upstage near campus, and the Metropol downtown were the spots).  Funny I never before realized that I left both dancing for fun and dancing as art behind around the same time!

Fast forward to this year when a good friend asked me to catch a dance performance that he was unable to attend.  The performance was here in town and featured original but classically-inspired and informed Indian dance.  The choreographer (Pallavi Nagesha) was on stage with the musicians and the solo dancer (Revati Masilamani) was simply amazing.  

Watching her precision, athleticism, grace, and physical story-telling was a real treat and brought back all that appreciation I had had for dance-as-art.  It wasn't anything like what I had gone to in my youth, but dance as an embodiment of expression is universal.

Funny that a friend I have hardly ever seen since my Alabama days would recommend a dance performance in my current hometown from his current residence in Germany. Being the only white person in attendance, it brought me back to the awkward self-awareness I had in Pittsburgh when mid 20's Ken went to those performance alone as well.  But, in both cases, once the dancing started, I was transported and transfixed.  

You know, that friend in Germany also saw White Nights in 1985 with Jack.  Life is funny with its twists and turns, isn't it?

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*I remember asking "Did you like it?" and she laughed "Yes, but not as much as you!"

** Years later, a random guy stopped me in a grocery store in Houston and pointed at the T-shirt and asked "Bill T Jones?"  I smiled and agreed.  He looked stunned and stood visibly struggling emotionally for a moment, then said "Very cool shirt", and walked away in a daze.

Visiting Umass

 I lead a dual life.  At school, in class, I am an extravert.  I greet students in the hallway, make small talk, behave semi-normally.  But, outside of school, I'm a recluse.  I don't go out unless I have to and basically spend my time with my family and that's it.

Last weekend was Izze's birthday so I drove out Friday to bring her home for the weekend.  As a break in the driving, I asked her to take me to one of the famous "best campus food in the country" dining halls before turning around and driving home.  (sushi bar, cheesecake, and coffee if you must know (and all quite good I confess))

Now I know lots of my former students are at Umass but I had Dad hat firmly on and so I was taken aback when this college kid emerges from the crowd in the dining hall with a surprised "Mister Rideout?".  Next thing you know I'm shaking hands with Skyler and he's filling me in on what he's up to.  While we are eating, I ask Izze, "Think I'll run into any other WHS alums on the way out?"

Sure enough Bella calls me over on my way out and we chat for a moment as well.  Then outside, we run into Trisha on her way in:

Sometimes I think about the fact that there are roughly 2000 adults out there that have spent a year listening (well, at least pretending to listen!) to me wax poetic about the beauty of physics and tell some bad jokes and the same old classic stories from my former life, but rarely have I had such an unexpected density of random encounters... Dare I say it was kind of nice???

Cooking and Music

"Why do you like making wraps so much?" Iz recently asked me.

"It's like when I make spaghetti sauce from scratch - I love the creativity of using whatever I find in the refrigerator."

Cooking is fun in many ways, but as a joyful spontaneous act is one of my favorites.  Cooking is like music:  sometimes you listen to classical (oven roasted chicken, broiled salmon), sometimes an old pop favorite (burgers-n-dogs), and sometimes you are in the mood for jazz!

Top: homemade hummus spread, romaine lettuce, tomato, heart of palm, hard boiled egg, roasted red pepper  
Bottom: celery, tomato, spinach, carrot, potato, onion, mushroom (blended)

I recently rediscovered an old frozen boneless leg of the lamb in the freezer.  That night we had lamb kabobs:

Cheers!

homebrew black ipa

Yosemite, Fortune Cookies, and The Melting Pot

While out soaking in the amazing views on a recent visit out West, we stumbled upon a small sign indicating a "Chinese Laundry" was just down the road from a historic hotel.  On a whim, we checked it out and found a fascinating little exhibit detailing the service roles fulfilled by Chinese immigrants of the 1800's (men doing laundry, cooking, and gardening).

Mixed in was a story of a semi-famous chef, Tie Sing, who would (circa 1915) write personalized messages to each guest in Chinese and English on their last evening tucked into pastry.

Now, I have long known that the idea of a 'Chinese Fortune Cookie' is not a real Chinese thing but rather an Americanism that only appears in Chinese restaurants in the United States.  Thinking I had stumbled upon the origin story for 'Chinese' cookies, I did a little research upon our return.  Turns out the origin is more Japanese than Chinese.  Apparently the proto-fortune cookie first appeared in Japan in the 1870's and then was imported with Japanese immigration in the late 1800's and early 1900's, transforming into the version of the cookie we know by the 1910's.  Japanese food was not yet popular in America but americanized Chinese food was really taking off, so many Japanese immigrants opened Chinese restaurants.  Add on the internment of the Japanese during WWII and the general unpopularity of all things Japanese then (Even in the 1980's my American grandparents had friends who refused to ever eat in a Japanese restaurant!)... well the false association of this uniquely American cookie with China became complete.   Around this time these "fortune tea cakes" became known as "fortune cookies" 

By Ksayer1 - https://www.flickr.com/photos/ksayer/5452373550/, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=54564896

Only in America can it become de facto that you get a modified Japanese pastry with every order at a Chinese restaurant.  So, if you see racist tropes that make use of the fortune cookie - know that the wrongness of it all is really much deeper than most realize...

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P.S. Later on this same trip we learned that the name of the park, "Yosemite", was derived from a derogatory term ("they are killers") a neighboring tribe had for the actual indigenous tribe of the park.  How uniquely American is that?

Thirty-Six Years

It's been 36 years since all four of us shared a common spot on the space-time continuum, but last weekend a daughter's wedding celebration was the catalyst that made it happen in New York City.  

Turns out if you share your formative years with some kindred spirits, you may well be able to go 36 years and then just pick up where you left off.  

Lucky am I to have had such friends in those formative years and doubly lucky again to get this opportunity to hang with the fellas:

"Belle brochette de quinquagénaires” is what the Ton-Ton said when he saw this last picture.

Tears, Jokes about Tears, and Jokes about Jokes about Tears

I'm actually not proud that I have had a few students cry through the years (invariably upon the return of a test).  However, it is also true that I joke about crying a lot in class.  It is a running gag in my classes that I am cold, heartless and was drawn to the profession by the opportunity to make kids cry.  I think most of the students know I am joking but you never know... teenagers do tend to personalize everything.  One student told me this year: "You know, you are used to making these kind of remarks before you were masking and people could see you smiling while you made them, but now that you mask - we just don't know..."

So I was quite jealous when my colleague showed me that in her end-of-the-year loot, she had a mug titled "for the tears of my students".  What about me?  Isn't this my joke?  Well, when I got home I unpacked a gift from AS and was quite vindicated to see this gem:

Quite the meta statement, is it not?  That twist of capturing them warm... well, now that's just delightfully perverse.

I am so looking forward to sipping from the mug on opening day in the fall while laying out the syllabus in honors physics...

Graduation

 Well, the day finally rolled around: Isabelle has graduated from high school.  That seemed really fast in the rearview mirror!

Every year, the graduating class asks some of their teachers to march and sit with them ("marshals").  I've been to my fair share, but this year was obviously a bit different.  It turns out there are a lot of teacher-kids in this particular graduating class.  Here is a collection of parent-marshals:

Several former students came back to snap a picture after the ceremony.  Here's one picture with a cohort from the astronomy class that was shared with me:

And there were even some former students from farther back in time who popped out of the audience afterwards too!  For example, The Hive showed up:

Turns out, this was the first graduation Seb has ever attended and the first since her own that Irene had attended.  As I told a student who didn't want to attend, a big reason for the ceremony is actually for your family rather than for you!  I guess that might be what some call wisdom (at least for me it represents a more enlightened attitude to rites-of-passage and ceremonies in general as compared to how I thought about them in my youth!)