Super Bon!

D. Do not dally on the way to the airport.

The Montreal airport seems like the place where you don’t need to observe the “get there two hours early for an international flight” rule. But there are limits. Specifically, 45 minutes before departure time. We took a little too long getting out of the apt to the airport and when we got there I even thought to take a moment to check our coats. The result? We walked up to the counter exactly 40 minutes before takeoff. Now, there was no problem physically speaking; we could have easily made the flight. But Air Canada is pretty strict with their rule, so much so that it was not possible for the agents to get us on our flight. And yes, coat check was probably the difference.

Thus began the saga of the beginning of the vacation. We had to call United, through whom the tickets were booked. The kind agent on the other end then spent about 45 minutes looking at other flights he could book us on. The only ones he found were on Saturday and cost $1000 (CAN) each. Carrie was getting whiter and whiter and I realized her bloodsugar was taking a big drop, so she handed the phone to me about 40 minutes into the call and took a glucose tab or two. The agent on the other end of the phone kept looking and I started to ponder whether Thursday evening would find me at the Donna Haraway talk, explaining to my friends why I had actually shown up.

Finally, I asked about standby, which we’d never done before. The agent came up with a plan: fly to Washington DC (instead of Chicago, which was where our original connections were) and then try and get on one of two flights from DC to Tampa. There were four the next day. The deal is the United doesn’t charge you to be on standby if, like us, you screw up your flight plan.

Since it was $2000 and fly on Saturday or stand by for free (with the possibility of paying for one night’s hotel), we eagerly took the Washington DC option. And thus, we spent most of Thursday waiting around in the Dulles airport, like vultures, for two people to get themselves into the very situation we had gotten ourselves so that we could take advantage of their misfortune. I can tell you that the C concourse of Dulles is much more boring than the B concourse, and it is absolutely FULL of miserable, harried people. Including Wolf Blitzer (Carrie saw him, I didnit). The B concourse is nice and open but the shops are boring and so is the food. We spent a good deal of time in a bar that had ESPN Sportscenter, which is one U.S. show Carrie dearly missed (note: TSN’s “Sportscentre” bites in comparison).

The long and short of it is that we were the last two people allowed onto the last flight of the night to Tampa and we’ve never been so happy to get on a plane. Our total “lost” vacation time was about seven hours. At least I got most of my undergrad papers marked. I will say, given the generally low level of service in the airline industry, that everyone we came across was very helpful and went out of their way to help us get to Florida.

OK, another thing. “Ted” is the stupidest branding idea ever. “Ted” is the last three letters of “United” and it allows them to say things like “Ted would like you to fasten your seatbelt,” or “Ted welcomes you,” which is smarmy but not clever. Also, their safety video uses these flat orange backgrounds and looks like it’s straight out of The Matrix, so I guess that’s a point in their favor. It’s the first truly surreal safety video I have ever seen and I would happily watch it again just for its entertainment value.

Speaking of which, there is a small bone of contention about whether Oprah Winfrey was on our flight. The captain announced it before we took off (she was supposedly doing a story on the life of a flight attendant) they even showed a special graphic on the screens that said “Ted is going to be on TV” (you see how annoying the “Ted” thing can be?). When we deplaned in Tampa, there was a woman who could have been Oprah but since neither of us watch the show, we couldn’t be certain. Carrie thinks not, I think so, only because they were having people take their pictures with her and because of the LCD graphic, which seems like a bit much for making a joke of a flight attendant who just looks like Oprah.

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Note: while in Manatee County there was no internet access, but I blogged the vacation in word. I will upload it over the next days and postdate it — this is the first installment.

A. Do not watch 24 before going to bed. Bad idea. I actually had my first nuclear nightmare since childhood Tuesday night (we watched it a day late). Plus all that edge-of-your-seat stuff isn’t exactly relaxing.

B. Do not attempt to feed the icky outdoor cat.(1) It will keep coming around and mess up our cats’ private property. This particular icky outdoor cat has been coming around on the back patio. When the weather is warm, we let our cats out on the patio. We don’t want any conflict. Yesterday, it showed up wet with rain looking in at our very dry cats. There was much brandishing of large tales and growling through the patio glass. Carrie confessed that she took pity on the icky outdoor cat and tried to feed it one night. Luckily, it did not take the food.

C. If you are a faculty association, do not bash unions in your recruitment literature for new faculty. Especially do not mention that unions are a threat to “collegiality.” Some of your potential members may have been in unions at previous jobs and might recognize propaganda when they see it.

Off to catch a plane. My best hope is that the Montreal airport has lockers for rent. If not, new rule “D” is that the Montreal airport should have lockers so I don’t have to fly a winter coat to Florida or freeze my tail off waiting for the shuttle bus in extended parking.

The laptop comes with. Perhaps there will be installments, but no promises. I might just be on vacation.

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1. Charlie and Kim had an icky outdoor cat in Vallejo that they did feed, and it was okay. Different scenario.

You must know the feelings — getting into ruts and escaping them.

Right now I’m going through one of those periods where I see a whole body of literature in a new light — a “a ha!’ moment. In this case it’s cybernetics and information theory and it all started because one of my RAs came across a reference to Shannon and Weaver in some work she was doing for me. Not like I’m going to start walking around arguing that we should adjust the inputs and outputs on my cat or anything (though come to think of it, maybe I should adjust the cat) (1), but it turns out that there’s a “there there” I hadn’t noticed before. And all this readed I did in a reading group a couple years ago on autopoesis is turning out to be quite useful. Currently, I’m reading a really cool history of Soviet Cybernetics called From Newspeak to Cyberspeak (by Slava Gerovitch) that’s got lots of good little tidbits in it and also suggests some interesting reading strategies for the American material given Gerovitch’s attention to language and official ideology — which I suppose is an essential part of writing the history of Soviet science. I’m filling in some gaps in my knowledge and going back over stuff. Yes, of course the material is really dry, but that’s half the fun. Anyway, I don’t feel like I’m expressing this well, but there’s just no high like the moment you see a new connection among ideas. At least if you’re a geek like me.

Musically, on the other hand, I find there’s just a center of gravity in indierock that I keep going back to. This is all spurred on by the fact that I just ordered (a couple days ago) the new EP by the Joy Circuit, who have members of a bunch of other bands I listened to in the 1990s. It’s like I’m following a social group with which I have no personal connection through their musical careers. Or something. Anyway, I find my ears keep wanting it. Yeah, the Lesbians on Ecstasy CD is also on order and will be enjoyable, but I think I’m waiting for the next big subgenre discovery. Either that, or I’ll give in and just roll with it. Guess I’m just not satisfied with my own satisfaction.

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1. For those who don’t know, Norbert Wiener’s Human Use of Human Beings has a whole discussion of the inputs and outputs of a kitten. When I read it, it’s kind of cute and creepy at the same time.

So, some people at McGill were running Norton Realtime and claimed that a virus and trojan horse were coming off my homepage at http://sterneworks.org/index.html . If you feel like doing me a favor, and you run Norton Realtime or some other similar software, stop by the index page and see if you get an error message. My hosting service claims that they scanned all the files in my directory and found nothing. For the sake of completeness, I’ve changed all the passwords. But I never got an error message in the first place.

Anyway, if you go there and do get an error, let me know. Otherwise, I will assume the problem is solved.

as in the show sold out before we got there. We got what we deserved for trying to do too many things in one evening and not getting out of the apartment soon enough. Still, it was a great evening between the party and getting Carrie her consolation prize — a smoked meat sandwich (lean) from Schwartz’s Deli. What does a vegetarian eat there, you ask? Not much, but I will say that their coleslaw was the best I’ve had in Montreal. Carrie’s been wanting to go there since we arrived and intimated that she was craving a sandwich as we drove by (1) on the way to the sold out show. The scene is priceless and at 11pm on a Friday, you can actually get a couple of seats.

About the Watch

It is a Czech pocket watch from 1904. The case is silver with an engraved floral pattern and might shine more with a little polish. I suspect the glass over the face has been replaced — it’s too perfect. But the thing runs beautifully. You have to wind up every day and then it makes this exquisite, quiet ticking sound — like timepieces are supposed to make. It’s also very well built, and the woman who sold it to my student said “this will work longer than you live.” I don’t doubt it. I’m not quite ready to take the plunge and start carrying around a pocket watch as an affectation, so I’ll have to figure out my proper relationship to it. But it is definitely very cool.

The Busy Season

is coming. Committee work is heating up and so is the guest lecture and conference circuit. Next weekend, it’s the conference on sensory display. And Lev Manovich is in town. The following weekend is Donna Haraway, except that Carrie and I screwed up and planned our trip to Florida a day earlier (it’s the classic “academic gives invited lecture and takes spouse along for the ride” scenario). I swear there is something every single weekend in March, and April has me travelling again, this time for my own invited lecture gigs and (hopefully) another dissertation defense in Pittsburgh. I guess it’s a good thing football season is ending because I’m going to be a man in need of my Sundays.

Blablablabla work work work work I’m so busy I’m so busy

Academic blogs. Yeesh. What did you expect? At least we’re having a few football fans over for the Super Bowl (2) this evening, and will serve a couple healthy foods (pineapple was on sale!) and a lot of less healthy football-type foods like nachos with perfectly plasticine “cheese” dip. Trust me, it’s excellent.

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1. Yes, we drove. the party was in Westmount (west, as its name suggested) and the show was up Main, so we thought we’d economize on time and cabfare by driving. Turns out it didn’t matter.We didn’t make the show AND scored a parking ticket because the nose of the car was a couple inches (sorry, a few CM) into a no-parking zone.

2. We tried to invite everyone who showed us an interest in football. If you have shown us an interest in football and not received an invite (and live in Montreal!), drop me a line about the event. As was our practice in Pittsburgh, we are only inviting people who actually like the game. The invite-everyone whiz-bang party will happen later.

After reading Michael Berube’s blog entry on uniform determinism, I have nothing to add on the subject of the Super Bowl, except of course, “Go Eagles!”

And now, I’m off to a party and then to catch a band whose very name will no doubt raise the rank of this lowly blog in search engines everywhere: Lesbians on Ecstasy.