Hey guys,
What's new? I'm doing ridiculous loads of work, 'cause--you know--in Academia we can do all sorts of amazing shit with our brains, but we can't quite figure out how to space work evenly over a 15 week semester. 10 weeks of saying, "It'll be different this semester," followed by 5 of doing the work. Amirite?
Anyway, check out this link from the Chronicle of Higher Education if you've got time.
http://chronicle.com/article/How-Secure-Are-US-Professors/135388/
As someone who has taught in a foreign university, specifically one in a less-than-reputable country if we are speaking of political culture, this article tugged at a lot of strings. The article basically argues that itinerant professors should be aware of the potentially repressive atmosphere they are moving into and have an exit plan or parachute strategy in case they get fired for being politically forward thinking awesome Americans.
Hear my sarcasm there? That's string number one. I cannot tell you how many times I had this conversation with American teachers who often met one or more of the following distinguishing criteria of 'enlightenment' and 'America-fuck-yeah-ness':
A. out-and-out refused to even consider possibly attempting to learn the Korean language
B. openly expressed disgust and hatred for Koreans and Korean culture
C. naively wondered why Koreans don't do it the right/American way
D. had such debates while waiting for a girlfriend (usually my interlocutors were hetero males) whose Korean name they couldn't pronounce/refused to use
Etc.
Lest I wander too far into Angry (Self) Righteous Chuck territory, I want to invite Melissa (and others of course) to weigh in on the implications of the problem: do professors working outside their home (academic) culture have a reasonable expectation of the same 'freedoms' they would experience at home, i.e. organizing students to protest local political issues, folding contemporary controversies into their course syllabae, etc.
I tag Melissa specifically because this has recently been a huge issue with Yale's new campus in Singapore. Before the campus even opened, if I got my facts correct, Yale had a showdown with the powers that be in everybody's favorite gum-hating city-state. Yale lost and lost big.
Thoughts?
Kisses,
Chuck
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
한류 2012
Sorry that I haven't posted anything yet! I am living the oh-so-lavish lifestyle of a doctoral student doing dissertation fieldwork in Seoul... which is to say that I am scraping by on my grant money and generally being lazy and calling it "research." Anyway, I was inspired to write something today because I'm curious about the the global reach of Gangnam Style. For the past few months, friends from all over the place have been occasionally sending me emails asking "what's a Gangnam style?" or whether I've heard the song (yes, I have heard it; no, I have never been able to sit through the entire video). My advisor thinks that I am going to have to work it into my dissertation somehow because of the whole transnational aspect (anthropologists--who are not me--seem to love the word "transnationalism," even though it's essentially an empty signifier/substitute for "globalization," which went out of vogue in the late '90s). Today I got an email from my Mom about it, and figured "that's it, this phenomenon has gotten out of control." If a post-menopausal woman in rural Maine has heard the song, then who hasn't?
I've had a bit of a difficult time grasping the actual global impact that the song has had. I heard about it on the Interwebs a few weeks before I ever heard the song in Korea, some time in July I think. I remember that it was during the run-up to the Olympics. I could be completely and utterly wrong about this--it would definitely not be the first time--but I get the sense that the video went viral and became popular elsewhere before it was actually popular in Korea, and thus its popularity here is due somewhat to the very fact that it caught on globally in the first place. Of course, PSY was already a semi-successful Korean "rapper," but my friends--*ahem* "informants"--tell me that he was most well-known for a) having to do his military service twice because of a bureaucratic snafu the first time around, and b) for getting caught smoking weed. There was a point in late August/early September when I probably heard the song an average of three times daily while I was just doing participant observation in PC bangs and walking through the streets of the city. Last month it seemed like every guild in the online game that I am participating in (Lineage II) had some sort of variation of the chorus attached to the text that floats above their characters' heads in the game, substituting different cities and neighborhoods for Gangnam or playing upon the name itself, e.g. "오빤 꽝놤 스타일." Another popular game (Sudden Attack) had a special event where users could unlock an achievement that allowed them to play as a PSY avatar (I think...). The song's popularity seems to be waning here a little bit, but then again I am woefully--and if I'm being honest willfully--ignorant about all things K-Pop. I know from riding the subway that G-Dragon has a new album out, and Kara's "Pandora" video is being played all over the place. But then I go online and see things like this and have to think to myself, "Wow, is this the biggest global hit ever in Korean pop music history?"
The Atlantic did this piece about some of the more nuanced aspects of social satire that the song contains, which is probably a good analysis. Anyway, my question to you all is when did you first hear about/hear the song, and how did you hear about it?
I've had a bit of a difficult time grasping the actual global impact that the song has had. I heard about it on the Interwebs a few weeks before I ever heard the song in Korea, some time in July I think. I remember that it was during the run-up to the Olympics. I could be completely and utterly wrong about this--it would definitely not be the first time--but I get the sense that the video went viral and became popular elsewhere before it was actually popular in Korea, and thus its popularity here is due somewhat to the very fact that it caught on globally in the first place. Of course, PSY was already a semi-successful Korean "rapper," but my friends--*ahem* "informants"--tell me that he was most well-known for a) having to do his military service twice because of a bureaucratic snafu the first time around, and b) for getting caught smoking weed. There was a point in late August/early September when I probably heard the song an average of three times daily while I was just doing participant observation in PC bangs and walking through the streets of the city. Last month it seemed like every guild in the online game that I am participating in (Lineage II) had some sort of variation of the chorus attached to the text that floats above their characters' heads in the game, substituting different cities and neighborhoods for Gangnam or playing upon the name itself, e.g. "오빤 꽝놤 스타일." Another popular game (Sudden Attack) had a special event where users could unlock an achievement that allowed them to play as a PSY avatar (I think...). The song's popularity seems to be waning here a little bit, but then again I am woefully--and if I'm being honest willfully--ignorant about all things K-Pop. I know from riding the subway that G-Dragon has a new album out, and Kara's "Pandora" video is being played all over the place. But then I go online and see things like this and have to think to myself, "Wow, is this the biggest global hit ever in Korean pop music history?"
The Atlantic did this piece about some of the more nuanced aspects of social satire that the song contains, which is probably a good analysis. Anyway, my question to you all is when did you first hear about/hear the song, and how did you hear about it?
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Respice Adspice Prospice
Quentin and I have lived in Los Angeles for about a year and a half
without a car. When we met in Chicago, neither of us had ever owned a
car. We certainly didn't need one there, or in Seoul where we lived
after that, or in Claremont, CA, where we lived with Q's folks for about
a year and a half after that. In Claremont, I took the Metrolink train
to work in downtown Los Angeles, and borrowed the in-laws' car for
weekend outings. When I got a job in Westchester (near LAX), Q and I
moved to Venice Beach and decided, given it had always been our MO, not
to get a car then either. We thought we would give it a go for a few
months, a year, two years, and see how it treated us. It's been about a
year and a half, and so far so good.
I start with this brief history by way of saying that this was never some radical "we WILL NOT own a car" stance for us, but rather a lazy-in-its-own-way resistance to having to think about and pay for "car shit." We are not road warriors. We are not staunch anti-car-ites. We just seem to like to live this way: moving our bodies a lot more than we would otherwise to get to where we need to be, daily. And living in a slightly more resourceful, creative, and worn out physical state than I believe we would otherwise. I think it comes down to this: nothing is more of a soul kill than sitting in traffic. NOTHING. I'll take a sore butt and legs any day.
Here, a few tidbits about how we do it/when we do it/where we do it:
THE BIKES & GEAR
My bike is a piece of crap. It probably retails for about $120. It is a hybrid Schwinn - a bike Quentin's Mom bought a few years ago and gave to me when we moved to West LA. It is heavy as hell, but it is sturdy, shock resistant, and utterly unattractive to bike thieves. Q's bike is a tad bit higher end, a hybrid too with a lighter frame - and the second bike he's ridden in LA because his first was stolen out of our gated courtyard about a year ago. Other than the bikes, we have little gear. We always wear helmets. I wear gloves. We use lights after dark.
THE COMMUTE
I bike to work 2-3 days a week on average, and bike home from work most days. The trek to work includes a short but steep climb at the end, as Loyola Marymount University where I work is situated on a bluff near the Pacific. So on mornings I don't want to face the climb and arrive at work drenched in sweat, I'll bike about a mile to Pacific Coast Highway and stick my bike on the bus there. Some days I leave the bike behind entirely and take the bus all the way, but there is a transfer involved and it takes about twice as long. I usually just haul my work clothes in my backpack and grab a "sink shower" and change in the bathroom at work. My coworkers seemed kind of weirded out by this at first, but they've adjusted. On days where I need to be a bit more presentable, I'll bike to the University gym and shower and change there. Very occasionally I'll run to or from work. It's about a 4.75 mile journey, longer if one takes the scenic route along the Pacific.
ZIPCAR
We have access to the car sharing service ZipCar at LMU, and we rent a car every couple of weeks for a few hours, or sometimes for a full 24 hour period. It's handy for things like appointments, grocery runs, or special occasion outings.
VISITING THE IN-LAWS
Getting out to Claremont involves biking to the new Expo Line Metro stop in Culver City (super exciting that the line now extends so far west - it's supposed to reach Santa Monica by 2016) or all the way downtown to Union Station and then putting our bikes on the Metrolink train.
THE CART
There are supermarkets along my commute route, so almost daily on the way to and/or from work I will stop to pick up a few items for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. However, for large-ish grocery runs without a car, I use a SERIOUSLY DORKY little cart that I bought at Ross for about $15. It's meant for carrying drinks and gear to the beach. True to the Venice vibe, it's got, like, multi-colored peace signs painted all over it. Quentin is horribly embarrassed by it, so he has yet to join me when I get groceries by this method. It takes about 15-20 minutes to walk up to the nearest supermarket, where I can cram a surprising amount of food in the thing. Inevitably I get a "are you going to fit it all in THAT?" look from the cashier, but I take to self-bagging and usually get it all in. I've never been one to give a shit about looking like a dork, so that's one chore that I am willing to take on solo. :)
PARTY TIME
So this is all sounding well and good for the day to day, you say, but what about when one wants to go further afield and enjoy other parts of the city? Well, that's when things start to get a bit more, um, hardcore. James Brasuell, whom most of you probably remember from MAPH, is one of our dearest friends in Los Angeles. Often his girlfriend hosts parties at her place in Silver Lake - and often we bike. The parties can be fairly drawn out in themselves, but when you throw on an hour and a half bike ride each way - and consider that the ride home usually starts at about 3:00 in the morning, after about 8 beers - Silver Lake party evenings take on an even more epic character. We are known in James' circle as "those people who biked here from Venice." Other fun destinations we'll often bike over an hour to reach include the Silent Movie Theatre on Fairfax, downtown Los Angeles, and Manhattan Beach. When Melissa visited Los Angeles, we biked to meet her in Beverly Hills. Fun spots closer to home include Santa Monica (super close, tons of movie theatres) and Playa del Rey (funky little beach community, great for happy hour beers on a Friday afternoon).
The real point of this post is: no need to rent a car to come visit us in Los Angeles! You're all welcome anytime - although we can't put you up because we sleep on the floor of our studio apartment. Maybe I'll blog on that life choice next time. ;) Until then, happy trails.
I start with this brief history by way of saying that this was never some radical "we WILL NOT own a car" stance for us, but rather a lazy-in-its-own-way resistance to having to think about and pay for "car shit." We are not road warriors. We are not staunch anti-car-ites. We just seem to like to live this way: moving our bodies a lot more than we would otherwise to get to where we need to be, daily. And living in a slightly more resourceful, creative, and worn out physical state than I believe we would otherwise. I think it comes down to this: nothing is more of a soul kill than sitting in traffic. NOTHING. I'll take a sore butt and legs any day.
Here, a few tidbits about how we do it/when we do it/where we do it:
THE BIKES & GEAR
My bike is a piece of crap. It probably retails for about $120. It is a hybrid Schwinn - a bike Quentin's Mom bought a few years ago and gave to me when we moved to West LA. It is heavy as hell, but it is sturdy, shock resistant, and utterly unattractive to bike thieves. Q's bike is a tad bit higher end, a hybrid too with a lighter frame - and the second bike he's ridden in LA because his first was stolen out of our gated courtyard about a year ago. Other than the bikes, we have little gear. We always wear helmets. I wear gloves. We use lights after dark.
THE COMMUTE
I bike to work 2-3 days a week on average, and bike home from work most days. The trek to work includes a short but steep climb at the end, as Loyola Marymount University where I work is situated on a bluff near the Pacific. So on mornings I don't want to face the climb and arrive at work drenched in sweat, I'll bike about a mile to Pacific Coast Highway and stick my bike on the bus there. Some days I leave the bike behind entirely and take the bus all the way, but there is a transfer involved and it takes about twice as long. I usually just haul my work clothes in my backpack and grab a "sink shower" and change in the bathroom at work. My coworkers seemed kind of weirded out by this at first, but they've adjusted. On days where I need to be a bit more presentable, I'll bike to the University gym and shower and change there. Very occasionally I'll run to or from work. It's about a 4.75 mile journey, longer if one takes the scenic route along the Pacific.
ZIPCAR
We have access to the car sharing service ZipCar at LMU, and we rent a car every couple of weeks for a few hours, or sometimes for a full 24 hour period. It's handy for things like appointments, grocery runs, or special occasion outings.
VISITING THE IN-LAWS
Getting out to Claremont involves biking to the new Expo Line Metro stop in Culver City (super exciting that the line now extends so far west - it's supposed to reach Santa Monica by 2016) or all the way downtown to Union Station and then putting our bikes on the Metrolink train.
THE CART
There are supermarkets along my commute route, so almost daily on the way to and/or from work I will stop to pick up a few items for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. However, for large-ish grocery runs without a car, I use a SERIOUSLY DORKY little cart that I bought at Ross for about $15. It's meant for carrying drinks and gear to the beach. True to the Venice vibe, it's got, like, multi-colored peace signs painted all over it. Quentin is horribly embarrassed by it, so he has yet to join me when I get groceries by this method. It takes about 15-20 minutes to walk up to the nearest supermarket, where I can cram a surprising amount of food in the thing. Inevitably I get a "are you going to fit it all in THAT?" look from the cashier, but I take to self-bagging and usually get it all in. I've never been one to give a shit about looking like a dork, so that's one chore that I am willing to take on solo. :)
PARTY TIME
So this is all sounding well and good for the day to day, you say, but what about when one wants to go further afield and enjoy other parts of the city? Well, that's when things start to get a bit more, um, hardcore. James Brasuell, whom most of you probably remember from MAPH, is one of our dearest friends in Los Angeles. Often his girlfriend hosts parties at her place in Silver Lake - and often we bike. The parties can be fairly drawn out in themselves, but when you throw on an hour and a half bike ride each way - and consider that the ride home usually starts at about 3:00 in the morning, after about 8 beers - Silver Lake party evenings take on an even more epic character. We are known in James' circle as "those people who biked here from Venice." Other fun destinations we'll often bike over an hour to reach include the Silent Movie Theatre on Fairfax, downtown Los Angeles, and Manhattan Beach. When Melissa visited Los Angeles, we biked to meet her in Beverly Hills. Fun spots closer to home include Santa Monica (super close, tons of movie theatres) and Playa del Rey (funky little beach community, great for happy hour beers on a Friday afternoon).
The real point of this post is: no need to rent a car to come visit us in Los Angeles! You're all welcome anytime - although we can't put you up because we sleep on the floor of our studio apartment. Maybe I'll blog on that life choice next time. ;) Until then, happy trails.
blogging
I've never had a blog because I don't ever think I'm interesting
enough, but knowing that I now have a captive audience -- of four --
really takes the pressure off.
Working on the assumption that we are all self-absorbed, the idea that people find other people interesting is quite amazing. The idea that people could find me interesting is absolutely mind blowing.
So I will endeavour -- ignoring that red dotted line under my British spelling -- to write about me, or at least some of my random thoughts, which may also be your random thoughts, and so, I wouldn't be talking about me per se, but hopefully about you too.
It just so happens this week, I was speaking to a bunch of bloggers and blogger agents. Yes, bloggers now have agents, just like writers and actors.
I kept thinking about the Kardashianisation of the world, and how people gain a following just by being (chuck, I'm not being academic, but you may jump in here with recommended readings on being if you wish). It's all at once deplorable and admirable. I'm completely in two minds about it.
On the one hand, I am totally against blogs which have sponsored content and don't indicate that it is sponsored. That's just dishonest.
On the other hand, if a blogger practices full disclosure and can convince someone else that everything about their life is interesting, including that sponsored nose jobs, pregnancy test kit, and restaurant meal. Then kudos to them!
Because what they have essentially done is beat the system. Their readers don't care that something is sponsored, the fact that the blogger is willing to use that product or visit that eatery is all that matters.
And if the blogger takes it a step further and posts a picture of themselves with a product without indicating it is sponsored (coz really, who is going to caption a photo: me and my sponsored Prada bad) and people get excited about it, then you have reached the level of ultimate celebrity.
You can do no wrong.
If you have reached that level, you've probably worked hard at being interesting, and marketed yourself well, but it's going to take some time to convince people that being able to market yourself, is, like singing, dancing and writing well, talent in itself.
Working on the assumption that we are all self-absorbed, the idea that people find other people interesting is quite amazing. The idea that people could find me interesting is absolutely mind blowing.
So I will endeavour -- ignoring that red dotted line under my British spelling -- to write about me, or at least some of my random thoughts, which may also be your random thoughts, and so, I wouldn't be talking about me per se, but hopefully about you too.
It just so happens this week, I was speaking to a bunch of bloggers and blogger agents. Yes, bloggers now have agents, just like writers and actors.
I kept thinking about the Kardashianisation of the world, and how people gain a following just by being (chuck, I'm not being academic, but you may jump in here with recommended readings on being if you wish). It's all at once deplorable and admirable. I'm completely in two minds about it.
On the one hand, I am totally against blogs which have sponsored content and don't indicate that it is sponsored. That's just dishonest.
On the other hand, if a blogger practices full disclosure and can convince someone else that everything about their life is interesting, including that sponsored nose jobs, pregnancy test kit, and restaurant meal. Then kudos to them!
Because what they have essentially done is beat the system. Their readers don't care that something is sponsored, the fact that the blogger is willing to use that product or visit that eatery is all that matters.
And if the blogger takes it a step further and posts a picture of themselves with a product without indicating it is sponsored (coz really, who is going to caption a photo: me and my sponsored Prada bad) and people get excited about it, then you have reached the level of ultimate celebrity.
You can do no wrong.
If you have reached that level, you've probably worked hard at being interesting, and marketed yourself well, but it's going to take some time to convince people that being able to market yourself, is, like singing, dancing and writing well, talent in itself.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Hamburg, meine Perle
Hi everybody,
Greetings from (ahem) the "schönste Stadt der Welt": Hamburg, Germany. One thing I love about this "most beautiful city in the world" is the hanseatic pride that can be felt here, which is by no means unfounded. Hamburg's idyllic streets lined with white-washed art deco residences ranging from austere to elaborate in decoration seem as though they were created only to complement its lush greenery. The mild climate here hosts robust, dark green foliage, which can be found in every corner of the city (although color can be seen for about six weeks per year during what they call "summer" here).
Hamburg is indeed "Garden City" in the extreme with 8% of the independent city-state's land under natural protection, comprising an extensive park system integrated into the city, as well as around 230,000 trees along the streets. NABU's Hamburg chapter (the natural protection agency) offers an extensive public education program including guided bird-watching tours and other environmental awareness programs as well as opportunities for residents to get involved to help the city beautiful remain beautiful. I'm hoping to get involved with NABU at some point, but for one reason or another, haven't managed to...
In probably more ways than I realize, my life here is better than ever: I've found quite a few friends here, learned the language, joined a nice gym, feel increasingly integrated in my little community. I chat with shopkeepers in the area (in a city where people are known for being distant), know where the good restaurants and movie theaters are, have a few favorite spots and dozens more on my list to explore. I finally bought a scarf supporting my husband Simon's home soccer team (one of two in the city). Hamburg is indeed my ideal city. I've heard many times before that "Hamburg is a big city that feels like a village", and I appreciate that.
However, almost two years after my "official" move to this lovely place and hundreds of little learning experiences, both cultural and personal, which have enabled me to feel happy and comfortable in my new hometown, I still feel like I have a long way to go. I get out, but not nearly enough. I have seedlings of ideas of where I want to take my career, but haven't connected with the right people to help me grow them (or found a way to do it myself). I've learned from my attempts at establishing a business (still active, but could be more) and working full-time here (didn't quite work out as I thought it would). Next month I will get my English teaching certificate and will try something completely new.
We live close to the "Stadtpark" (City Park), and sometimes I feel like walking through this park is my saving grace. When Simon and I go together, it seems that we can more clearly communicate than anywhere else. Perhaps the physical space of the park's meadow away from the distractions at home clears a space in our brains, making way for clearer thinking. In the Stadtpark, I feel progress. I should go there more often.
I hope that journaling here will inspire me to experience more and learn more about this lovely city, so that I can share with all of you.
Much love und ganz liebe Grüße!
Eure Jodi
Greetings from (ahem) the "schönste Stadt der Welt": Hamburg, Germany. One thing I love about this "most beautiful city in the world" is the hanseatic pride that can be felt here, which is by no means unfounded. Hamburg's idyllic streets lined with white-washed art deco residences ranging from austere to elaborate in decoration seem as though they were created only to complement its lush greenery. The mild climate here hosts robust, dark green foliage, which can be found in every corner of the city (although color can be seen for about six weeks per year during what they call "summer" here).
Hamburg is indeed "Garden City" in the extreme with 8% of the independent city-state's land under natural protection, comprising an extensive park system integrated into the city, as well as around 230,000 trees along the streets. NABU's Hamburg chapter (the natural protection agency) offers an extensive public education program including guided bird-watching tours and other environmental awareness programs as well as opportunities for residents to get involved to help the city beautiful remain beautiful. I'm hoping to get involved with NABU at some point, but for one reason or another, haven't managed to...
 |
| The Stadtpark in Spring: a five-minute walk from my apartment |
In probably more ways than I realize, my life here is better than ever: I've found quite a few friends here, learned the language, joined a nice gym, feel increasingly integrated in my little community. I chat with shopkeepers in the area (in a city where people are known for being distant), know where the good restaurants and movie theaters are, have a few favorite spots and dozens more on my list to explore. I finally bought a scarf supporting my husband Simon's home soccer team (one of two in the city). Hamburg is indeed my ideal city. I've heard many times before that "Hamburg is a big city that feels like a village", and I appreciate that.
However, almost two years after my "official" move to this lovely place and hundreds of little learning experiences, both cultural and personal, which have enabled me to feel happy and comfortable in my new hometown, I still feel like I have a long way to go. I get out, but not nearly enough. I have seedlings of ideas of where I want to take my career, but haven't connected with the right people to help me grow them (or found a way to do it myself). I've learned from my attempts at establishing a business (still active, but could be more) and working full-time here (didn't quite work out as I thought it would). Next month I will get my English teaching certificate and will try something completely new.
We live close to the "Stadtpark" (City Park), and sometimes I feel like walking through this park is my saving grace. When Simon and I go together, it seems that we can more clearly communicate than anywhere else. Perhaps the physical space of the park's meadow away from the distractions at home clears a space in our brains, making way for clearer thinking. In the Stadtpark, I feel progress. I should go there more often.
I hope that journaling here will inspire me to experience more and learn more about this lovely city, so that I can share with all of you.
Much love und ganz liebe Grüße!
Eure Jodi
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
It's on...
...wait, is this thing on?
I'm currently in my office in Memphis, needing a break from reading Hawthorne, waiting for my next class, so I'm following through on this project to establish a blog space for our crazy little collective.
We seem to have lost Jeff and Bridget (Brigitte? Biridigitite?) who were, with all due respect, the least crazy members, in my opinion.
For snoops, eavesdroppers, over-the-shoulder-reading significant others (viz. Simon), the collective in questions is the Dinner Group. Many other groups living in the International House at the University of Chicago in the 2004-2005 academic year routinely ate dinner together, but only one was awesome enough to be titled, simply, The Dinner Group. (Hint: it was the same one that attracted the attention of at least one budding anthropologist.)
The group was:
Myself (Chuck), preparer of Kick Butt Spaghetti and other dishes leaving no surprise as to the source of his weight problem.
McKenzie (I'll leave it up to the others to remind us of their 'signature' dishes...)
Jeff
Stevie
Melissa
Ellen
Bridget
There were other interlocutors but these above were us. Now we live on three continents, and I would say, still manage to see each other quite frequently.
I leave it there for now, mainly so I can monkey with the blog layout!
~Chuck
I'm currently in my office in Memphis, needing a break from reading Hawthorne, waiting for my next class, so I'm following through on this project to establish a blog space for our crazy little collective.
We seem to have lost Jeff and Bridget (Brigitte? Biridigitite?) who were, with all due respect, the least crazy members, in my opinion.
For snoops, eavesdroppers, over-the-shoulder-reading significant others (viz. Simon), the collective in questions is the Dinner Group. Many other groups living in the International House at the University of Chicago in the 2004-2005 academic year routinely ate dinner together, but only one was awesome enough to be titled, simply, The Dinner Group. (Hint: it was the same one that attracted the attention of at least one budding anthropologist.)
The group was:
Myself (Chuck), preparer of Kick Butt Spaghetti and other dishes leaving no surprise as to the source of his weight problem.
McKenzie (I'll leave it up to the others to remind us of their 'signature' dishes...)
Jeff
Stevie
Melissa
Ellen
Bridget
There were other interlocutors but these above were us. Now we live on three continents, and I would say, still manage to see each other quite frequently.
I leave it there for now, mainly so I can monkey with the blog layout!
~Chuck
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