A Spartan Life

My sometimes-employed wife went out and snagged herself a job this week.  No big deal.  Assistant Professor of Writing, Rhetoric, and Cultures at Michigan State University.  Full time gig.  Salaried position.  Nice benefits.  No heavy lifting.

Though it hardly qualifies as news at this point, I thought an achievement of such magnitude deserved a more lasting tribute than a heap of Facebook 'likes.'  Only a blog post is forevermore, so allow me to rhapsodize for a moment.

My sometimes-overworked wife earned her place among the MSU faculty after 5 years of reading and writing and filming and teaching in the pressure cooker that is the doctoral program at Purdue's Department of English.  Along the way she's made documentaries, published articles, helped launch a journal, passed her prelims and got some dissertation chapters written.  Looked good doing it too.  Oh, and she wedged a childbirth in there too, just for the hell of it.

If, by the miracle of technology, I should live to be 1,000, I'll never understand how she managed it all, and with such grace.

But she did, because she's amazing, so you'll forgive me, McBoners, for using a few lines to gush. 

Michigan beckons.  Soon we'll be saying goodbye to West Lafayette and hello to East Lansing.  A dissertation alone stands in the way of her degree.  Soon that obstacle too will lay vanquished on a path to glory that started back in '07, when she waltzed into the University of Akron's English Department and asked if they needed some help with the kids.  They did, and that hiring led to this hiring.

And I would also like to point out that the following correspondence from an Ohio university of some renown arrived last week in the mail:

Apparently I've been spelling my spouse's first name wrong all these years.  Been spelling the last name wrong, too.  And wouldn't you know it, it seems that, to my surprise, I accidentally got one of those gay marriages.  It doesn't matter.  Love is love, and I love my husband.

Congratulations, Mr. Hilalgo.  I'm so proud of you, dude.

nwb

Monsters Shake

You had to know that this was coming.  In our world at The Q, we work our asses off, sometimes 15 hours a day, weekends, holidays, etc. etc. So if we can't have a little fun while we're at, then not sure why we would even bother!

Love what I do, love that we don't take ourselves too seriously.

Introducing, the Monsters version of the latest craze..........

jab

 

Crib Notes - 2nd Edition

Did you know that Cleveland was awesome? I'm guessing the answer is probably one of the following:

1.) Yes because I live here and I can't believe what is happening..THE RENAISSANCE HAS ARRIVED!

But more likely...

2.) No, can you believe the weather?
3.) No, didn't your river catch on fire, like 30 years ago?
4.) "No".  Why not?  "Well never been, but I read that it snows there, your sports teams haven't won a championship in a long time and I heard someone call it the mistake by the lake once."

Either way, I don't really care.  Come live with me for one week, just seven short days, and the world that you previously lived in will be changed forever.

However, spending one week with me in Cleveland may cause the following side affects:

1.) Going home with one of these:

2.) Having the most fun you've had since you were in college
3.) Enjoying some of the finest dining the culinary world has to offer
4.) Meeting incredibly beautiful, bright, talented, and authentic people that will make you smile every day with their passion and energy
5.) Extreme regret - for any negative, uninformed or uneducated comments you had made previously about this city
6.) An increase of one or two points on the toughness scale. 
7.) Calling your boss to ask for the following Monday off so you can look for places to live in Tremont for your now pending move to Cleveland
8.) Memories like these:

*crib notes are the unadulterated, unfiltered and often times confusing thoughts of Jeffrey Bowler made at the hours of the night when the thirst for writing has become stronger than the need for sleep.

jab

Sleepless Nights - 1st Edition

I sit in bed quite often and think about...well quite frankly....I think about a lot of different things. Where I'm going, where I've been, sometimes just reflection on the day.  It is a relaxing and almost meditative subsitute for sleep, since I find that to be highly overrated.  And with my current leg injury, almost impossible to sustain longer than 30 minutes at a time anyway....

So as I am laying there I usually come up with a few things that I want to write about, and then I often forget the next morning as I prepare my mind for other priorities at hand.  So I think I'll start writing them immediately once in a while. Need to come up with a catchy name for them...Crib notes?

Tonight's thoughts:

I, for the life of me, will never understand three fundamental flaws I see happening so often....

1.) Why people choose to be negative when they could just as easily make the choice to be positive.  Bad things happen to all of us. We all have days that seem like they are going to finally break us down. I am well aware that life can be unbelievably tough sometimes.  But I can tell you this with absolutely no uncertainty whatsoever; negativity is a lethal disease that can cause irreparable damage to you and those around you.

2.) Why so many chose to hate one another instead of helping one another. Love is the driving force of human nature, why do we fight it?  LOVE EACH OTHER.

3.) Why so many people choose to let life and opportunities pass them by instead of letting life and opportunities be the driving force for every decision that they make.  My dad would have thrown me out of the gym himself if I would have ever tanked on a basketball court, and so maybe on some level that has just carried over into every other part of my life. I just don't understand how so many people can be so scared of life that they forget to live it... 

PEACE AND LOVE.

jab

You Wanna Little Thumb with That?

Well, I cheese grated the living hell out of myself tonight.  Luckily, I'm left handed and won't miss the skin, tendon and ligament that once comprised the knuckle of my right thumb.  It happened when I was shaving Romano onto my sometimes-Italian wife's bowl of spaghetti.  I suppose I was being too cavalier with that block of hard cheese and what apparently is a very dangerous kitchen utensil.  To her credit, my wife did not panic at the sight of blood.  She calmly devoured her supper, knuckle and all, as I tended to my gushing wound.  The meal was 'delicious,' she later commented, though she 'could have done without the chewy bits.'

This spells the end of my thumb's functionality, and any hope of solving Mike Tyson's Punch-Out!! (when I was sooo close to beating the second Don Flamenco).  I might as well have the sucker chopped.  I'm thinking wood as a replacement, or maybe Obamacare will pony up for one of those lightweight aluminum models.

nwb

Of Bones, Spoons, Fish Heads and Other Particulate Matter

My two nieces are about the most brilliant and beautiful two girls you can imagine, full of light, magic and love from the second they were born.  But I confess that I never knew how prodigiously talented they were until this past Christmas, when I was gifted some of the finest artwork these two eyes have ever seen.

Understand that one of the first responsibilities I took on as an uncle was to teach my nieces how to fake throw up.  Most people don't realize there's a real art to it.  You can't just stick out your tongue, mutter a couple of halfhearted 'blahs' and expect to be taken seriously.  A good fake heave is a full commitment of body and spirit.  I passed on what I knew to the girls.  They channeled it through their pens.

What follows springs part from fancy and part from reality.

This from Seda:

Like Picasso's Guernica, there's a lot for the critic to chew on here.  Central to the piece, however, is the self portrait just left of center.  As Seda vomits, a cascade of bones, spoons, fish heads and other particulate matter issues forth, corrupting everything and everyone in its path.  Spectators look on with a mix of horror and delight.  The baby 'Willyum' makes his way with zeal toward what looks to be a tasty puddle.  Only Isla appears indifferent to the proceedings, more fascinated by the recycling bin than by what is being recycled from her sister's gullet.  No identity has as yet been assigned to the mysterious 'girl' meandering conspicuously through the scene.  Though rife with political themes, the major undercurrent is thought to reflect Seda's attitude toward the reelection of President Obama, which, she is documented as having said on election night, 'makes me wanna puke.'

And this by Isla:

Though both depict what appear to be the same jettisoned meals, Isla's masterwork in modern realism stands in stark contrast to her sister's chaotic tableau.  Working with an almost obsessive attention to detail, the artist renders the moment with a photographic clarity.  Here, a green geyser bursts forth from my grinning visage--bones, spoons, fish heads and other particulate matter purged with a hurricane force.  As my sometimes-nauseous wife looks on, the terror in her eyes tells one of the great truths of regurgitation: vomit begets vomit.  The sight and smell of this discharge will soon overpower her, and summon forth her own foul payload of bones, spoons, fish heads and other particulate matter.

As an uncle, I couldn't be more proud of my girls.  These I will keep and treasure forever, Seda and Isla, until that day comes when I can sell them for mad bank on ebay.

nwb

2013 UNDIES RUN!

Happy New Year Friends and Family!

Every once in a while you just need to go for a run outside, in the middle of winter, in nothing but your undies.  Right?  Got your attention?  PERFECT!

 In 2013 I am making a commitment to do more to help others in the community, and also get involved with programs that help people across the world.  The 2013 Cupid’s Undie Run is my first opportunity to do so.  Cupid’s Undie Run is a 1.5 mile run in nothing but your skivvies themed around the Valentine’s Day Holiday, and we have one taking place right here in Cleveland.  In Tremont to be exact.  This event is run across the world to help raise money for The Children's Tumor Foundation to help end a disease called Neurofibromatosis, commonly known as NF.  It is a cause that is near and dear to our hearts here at The Q.

100% of the funds raised through Cupid’s Undie Run go directly to The Children’s Tumor Foundation.  That is where you come in.  The Monsters have formed a team and our goal is to raise $5,000 to help research and find a cure for NF.  How can you get involved?

SIMPLE!!

1.)    JOIN OUR TEAM AND RUN:  Simply CLICK HERE to register and join our team.  You will find us in the drop down menu of what team you would like to join.  Look for LAKE ERIE MONSTERS

a.       This is meant to be a fun race and yes most of us will be wearing nothing but our Undies!  But look, if you aren’t comfortable running in your underwear you can come up with another fun themed outfit to run in. The important thing is that we all come together and raise money for a great cause.  Be creative, have fun with this and push the envelope! 

b.      Race is Saturday, February 16^th and starts at 2:30 p.m. 

2.)    DONATE! Every dollar counts.  Any and all donations are welcome and we appreciate every donation, no matter how large or small.  Whatever you are willing to do to help us get to our goal, and help find a cure for this disease we will sincerely appreciate.  Of course, all donations are tax deductible. 

CLICK HERE TO DONATE TO OUR TEAM:  MONSTERS TEAM PAGE

Lots more information on  NF and this run are available here: CupidsUndieRun and please check back to follow our progress and updated photos on our team page. If nothing else please feel free to come out the day of the to cheer on all the amazing people that are working hard to make this an incredible event.  There will be pre and post-race activities so come out and share some incredible memories all day long at all the wonderful establishments in Tremont.  And talk about an opportunity for some incredible photos!

The 2013 Cupid’s Undie Run.  A truly unique and amazing opportunity for us to provide support for so many children out there that need our help.  And if we can have fun and embarrass ourselves along the way, well even better!

Thank you as always.  Love, health and happiness to you all in 2013!!

 

JAB

Spilling My Guts in 2013

I wanted to start the blogging year on a motivational note.  Here's the thing: I like New Year's resolutions.  Even if they are 99% self-deluding nonsense, I enjoy seeing the calendar roll over and pushing the reset button while pronouncing a few probably non-starting self-improvement initiatives.  Winter is a grind, after all, and I don't see anything wrong with setting some goals that will never be reached as a way of braving the cold dark months ahead.  I wanted to blog something about how I was going to 'positively own 2013.'  'Destroy 2013.'  'Make mincemeat of 2013.'  I was going to talk about how 2012, the greatest year of my life, the year I got to know my son and revel in raising him with my sometimes-popular wife, would serve as a launching pad for an even more awesome 2013.

Then I threw up.

Boston, Massachusetts was the site of 2013's MLA Conference.  My wife was there for an undisclosed number of job interviews, possibly to determine where we'll spend the rest of our lives.  I was there for support.  While she was nailing her interviews, I watched over the McBonerito.  All was going well until the final night in our comfortable room in the Sheraton.

The nausea that woke me at around 2AM told me I was in for it.  Between intermittent spells of sleep, I suffered chills and aches.  Stomach flu, for certain.  I longed for a quick resolution, but was condemned to moan and roll in bed until dawn.  At last, 6 AM was the appointed hour.  The nausea now acute, I leap out of bed and hustled to the bathroom, just as my guts unleashed their fury.

One, two, three violent heaves sent a steak and bean burrito surging into the toilet.  I lingered a moment, regarding the frothy mix of beef and red legumes.  On the surface, browned cilantro leaves floated--little lily pads on a putrid pond from hell.

Subsequent wretches summoned less recognizable matter: breakfast's egg, cheese and sausage bagel was a warm, curdled sludge that sank quickly to the bottom.

A final few hacks of yellow bile signaled the end.  After mopping up the spatter and brushing my teeth for an hour, I staggered back to bed.  I would spend the day in a diminished state, so weakened that every task was insurmountable.  My 14-month-old son easily overwhelmed me during a routine diaper change.  Were he of a more sinister nature, he could have taken my arm behind my back and made me cry "uncle."  But he's a good and reasonable lad, and he eventually consented to having his loins regirded. 

After wrapping up some final Boston business that day, we hit the road.  At well past the stroke of 2 AM, 24 hours after the stomach fun began, we found ourselves crawling thankfully into our own bed.  The trip was overwhelmingly positive, but after having my ass handed to me by the flu and negotiating the long route from Boston to Chicago to West Lafayette, IN, I find myself humbled.  Perhaps further posts will see me 'taking 2013 by storm,' but for now I'll reflect on that semi-digested mess in the toilet and remember that a few microbes can topple even the mightiest of bloggers.

Oh, and I wanted to say goodbye to 2012 with a final birding list, so here's that:

Birds sighted, 12/29:

Junco
Cardinal
Goldfinch
Mourning dove
House finch
House sparrow
Downy woodpecker
Red-headed woodpecker
Chickadee
Tufted titmouse
Red-breasted nuthatch
White-breasted nuthatch
Carolina wren
Blue jay
Starling
Red-tailed hawk

nwb