Cave Games

This past week I introduced one of my classes to the first few pages of Vladimir Nabokov’s Speak, Memory—not an easy read for experienced readers, much less engineering students who, with only one week left before final exams, are buried chin deep in calculus problems and AutoCAD projects. One section, however, seemed to speak to …

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Writing the Blizzard of 2011

The blizzard of Twenty Eleven caught few unaware. Eager meteorologists tracked and broadcast in minute detail its conception, gestation and birth, then, like proud parents, kept us apprised of the monstrous infant’s first steps and howls, so that by the time the angry toddler tore through the Midwest, we had already closed our schools and …

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That Old Poo Poo Man and Pretty Boy Parakeet

Last night, after a busy day of errands and returning to teaching after the holiday break, I spent some time in the evening reading and transcribing my great-aunt Hattie’s diary. One entry in particular made me smile. The year was 1955. Hattie was 73 years old and living with her husband, Will, on a ranch …

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