Rip Van Clermont is awake after a four month sleep – a blog hiatus to rest the weary mind.
Alas, he sees it is a New Year! and today’s propitious date:
1-11-11 or in Euro-style 11-1-11
Time to find the pen again and to write a few thoughts when the muse passes by.
Best to all and a safe 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, August 16, 2010
Summer ~ Whistling Straights
I’m happy that the PGA golf tournament has come and gone. This event, played over the weekend at the very trying Whistling Straights club, is the last of the four ‘majors’ and signifies the denouement of the golf season. Given the difficulty of the course (over 1000 sand traps) and the narrow fairways, I was thankful to be watching on TV.
Actually, this being an even year – 2010 – we still have the treat of another big occasion in early October. The Ryder Cup pits the best of the European golfers against the best of the USA every other year. Always compelling, this event has become more and more interesting given the big egos of celebrity golfers and the fact that they have to compete as a team rather than individuals as they do each weekend in the regular season. Stay tuned…
However, I digress. I’m happy that the PGA tournament is over because it marks the end of 2009-2010 school term and roughly my work year. Here’s why:
I carry around one of those little ‘at-a-glance’ calendars in my briefcase. Just to be very clear: it is an academic-at-a-glance calendar marketed, one assumes, for educators like me who think in a September to August cycle. I enter my school appointments, family milestones and major sporting events to which I’m addicted. Consequently, my calendar looks very full.
The PGA event is the final date entered into my little black diary. For the next few weeks, the calendar is blank – tabula rasa – empty.
Actually, this being an even year – 2010 – we still have the treat of another big occasion in early October. The Ryder Cup pits the best of the European golfers against the best of the USA every other year. Always compelling, this event has become more and more interesting given the big egos of celebrity golfers and the fact that they have to compete as a team rather than individuals as they do each weekend in the regular season. Stay tuned…
However, I digress. I’m happy that the PGA tournament is over because it marks the end of 2009-2010 school term and roughly my work year. Here’s why:
I carry around one of those little ‘at-a-glance’ calendars in my briefcase. Just to be very clear: it is an academic-at-a-glance calendar marketed, one assumes, for educators like me who think in a September to August cycle. I enter my school appointments, family milestones and major sporting events to which I’m addicted. Consequently, my calendar looks very full.
The PGA event is the final date entered into my little black diary. For the next few weeks, the calendar is blank – tabula rasa – empty.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Summer ~ The Vuvuzela
Summer is slipping away! August 1st is coming up this weekend! I can’t believe it!
Where are the weeks going? Where are the lazy days of summer? I thought I’d have five or six blog entries by now and the reality is zero, zilch!
Blame a late travel schedule through June and endless reports (the last one being completed yesterday – for the record). Then there was the World Cup. I vowed to watch only half of the matches but every time the television was on and enticing sound of the vuvuzela was heard from South Africa, well, that was it. Another 90 + minutes would be gone and there were two matches per day [for a month] so go figure. Tempus fugit...
Then there was the mixed business / pleasure trip to New England and some drop dead gorgeous summer weather for golf and friends: Cape Cod, Providence, New Hampshire and Vermont.
August will be the month: find some good books, tidy up family affairs, get some writing done and maybe a blog entry or two. That’s the goal.
Where are the weeks going? Where are the lazy days of summer? I thought I’d have five or six blog entries by now and the reality is zero, zilch!
Blame a late travel schedule through June and endless reports (the last one being completed yesterday – for the record). Then there was the World Cup. I vowed to watch only half of the matches but every time the television was on and enticing sound of the vuvuzela was heard from South Africa, well, that was it. Another 90 + minutes would be gone and there were two matches per day [for a month] so go figure. Tempus fugit...
Then there was the mixed business / pleasure trip to New England and some drop dead gorgeous summer weather for golf and friends: Cape Cod, Providence, New Hampshire and Vermont.
August will be the month: find some good books, tidy up family affairs, get some writing done and maybe a blog entry or two. That’s the goal.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
A blog by any other name...
Yes, dear Clermont, I’m your owner who it appears has abandoned you. Was the last entry really on March 21st --- I missed spring as tomorrow is the start of summer?
Alas, I intended to feed you once again when this onslaught of work is behind me.
I have traveled many miles since the last post and have been distracted by work… the World Cup… and who knows what not? The World Cup … this is weekend #2 and the viewing is so compelling.
I’ll be back with some food in July. Promise!
Alas, I intended to feed you once again when this onslaught of work is behind me.
I have traveled many miles since the last post and have been distracted by work… the World Cup… and who knows what not? The World Cup … this is weekend #2 and the viewing is so compelling.
I’ll be back with some food in July. Promise!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Marching Thru March
Where does the time go?
Growing up in New England as a boy I always felt that March was the only true transition month of the year. There is nothing quite like the same feeling in May or September or December. The basketball was put away but it was a few weeks too early for the baseball glove.
As the sages put it ~ March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. For those living in the northern climes like Massachusetts, there is some sense in this bit of wisdom. Here in Florida we have our own version of the coming of spring with new tendrils of greenery replacing the duller ones of winter. Where does time go?
For me it has been tax month ~ Americans are suppose to get their financial act together and submit various and sundry forms to the governement before the April 15 filing deadline. Three days went to that task.
The census paperwork came in the mail the other day. It is a once in ten years task so best to get it right.
There was St. Patrick's Day and Nowrūz, too.
The annual March Madness of college basketball is underway. Picking the best four teams out of 64 (who can pick just one?) is nigh impossible and the brackets (filling out your choices) have already been busted with numerous upsets this weekend.
Alas, spring is here officially today ~ so welcome. The transition is upon us.
Growing up in New England as a boy I always felt that March was the only true transition month of the year. There is nothing quite like the same feeling in May or September or December. The basketball was put away but it was a few weeks too early for the baseball glove.
As the sages put it ~ March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. For those living in the northern climes like Massachusetts, there is some sense in this bit of wisdom. Here in Florida we have our own version of the coming of spring with new tendrils of greenery replacing the duller ones of winter. Where does time go?
For me it has been tax month ~ Americans are suppose to get their financial act together and submit various and sundry forms to the governement before the April 15 filing deadline. Three days went to that task.
The census paperwork came in the mail the other day. It is a once in ten years task so best to get it right.
There was St. Patrick's Day and Nowrūz, too.
The annual March Madness of college basketball is underway. Picking the best four teams out of 64 (who can pick just one?) is nigh impossible and the brackets (filling out your choices) have already been busted with numerous upsets this weekend.
Alas, spring is here officially today ~ so welcome. The transition is upon us.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Frisbee anyone?
There is something exciting – even inspirational – when the Olympic torch is passed and the games begin. So this weekend we celebrate the start of the Vancouver winter extravaganza. 85 countries are going for gold, silver and bronze in some 15 sports. By the end of this month, we’ll all be skiers, skaters and snowboarders.
In the midst of all this Olympian hoopla, it was somewhat ironic, just slightly, that the inventor of the game of frisbee died just a few days ago.
For the uninitiated, frisbee is the mindlessly simple game of tossing a plastic disk to your companion. It is about ten inches wide with a little brim or lip that helps the damn thing fly if flicked in the right manner. Good frisbee throwing takes practice and a rudimentary (basic, basic) understanding of aerodynamics. Indeed, it is one of the great embarrassments of youth to incorrectly toss a frisbee. Frisbee can be played anywhere but it takes on a certain flair when thrown at the beach or in the middle of the college quad. Millions play frisbee.
From the Associated Press:
Walter Fredrick Morrison, the man credited with inventing the Frisbee, has died. He was 90. According to press releases, Morrison and his future wife, Lu, used to toss a tin cake pan on the beach in California. The idea grew as Morrison considered ways to make the cake pans fly better and after serving as a pilot in World War II, Morrison began manufacturing his flying discs in 1948.He would hawk the discs at local fairs and eventually attracted Wham-O Manufacturing, the company that bought the rights to Morrison's plastic discs. It is thought that Wham-O adopted the name "Frisbee" because that's what college students in New England were calling the Pluto Platters. The name came from the Frisbie Pie Co., a local bakery whose empty tins were tossed like the soon-to-be frisbee.
So as the great athletes of the world come together in chilly Canada, let us give thanks for the very simple pleasures in life – the frisbee toss.
In the midst of all this Olympian hoopla, it was somewhat ironic, just slightly, that the inventor of the game of frisbee died just a few days ago.
For the uninitiated, frisbee is the mindlessly simple game of tossing a plastic disk to your companion. It is about ten inches wide with a little brim or lip that helps the damn thing fly if flicked in the right manner. Good frisbee throwing takes practice and a rudimentary (basic, basic) understanding of aerodynamics. Indeed, it is one of the great embarrassments of youth to incorrectly toss a frisbee. Frisbee can be played anywhere but it takes on a certain flair when thrown at the beach or in the middle of the college quad. Millions play frisbee.
From the Associated Press:
Walter Fredrick Morrison, the man credited with inventing the Frisbee, has died. He was 90. According to press releases, Morrison and his future wife, Lu, used to toss a tin cake pan on the beach in California. The idea grew as Morrison considered ways to make the cake pans fly better and after serving as a pilot in World War II, Morrison began manufacturing his flying discs in 1948.He would hawk the discs at local fairs and eventually attracted Wham-O Manufacturing, the company that bought the rights to Morrison's plastic discs. It is thought that Wham-O adopted the name "Frisbee" because that's what college students in New England were calling the Pluto Platters. The name came from the Frisbie Pie Co., a local bakery whose empty tins were tossed like the soon-to-be frisbee.
So as the great athletes of the world come together in chilly Canada, let us give thanks for the very simple pleasures in life – the frisbee toss.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Old Antalya & Bilingual Conferences
It's time again to butter this blog. Where has the month of January gone?
Antalya on Turkey's south coast is one of the winter sun destinations so loved by Europeans, Russians and others who suffer from snow, ice and permafrost. The airport is good and no place reasonably north is less than four hours flying time away.
This past week has been rainy and cold. Flights have been delayed or cancelled. I had the uncanny luck of flying here on Wednesday between snowstorms which closed the Istanbul airport before and after. I had been hoping for a decent few days as there is lots to see in this old port - now booming city - by the Med.
Alas the steady rain has kept us inside where we are suppose to be - attending a bilingual educational conference.
The key to this type of gathering is to get your headphones early and hope that the professional translators are getting the right points. The English speaking keynoter plowed through some very heavy seas yesterday (brain research) and I hope the woman in the booth was on top of her vocabularly and nuances. I listened to three sessions from Turkish to English and it made sense - more or less.
Tonight it rains again.
Antalya on Turkey's south coast is one of the winter sun destinations so loved by Europeans, Russians and others who suffer from snow, ice and permafrost. The airport is good and no place reasonably north is less than four hours flying time away.
This past week has been rainy and cold. Flights have been delayed or cancelled. I had the uncanny luck of flying here on Wednesday between snowstorms which closed the Istanbul airport before and after. I had been hoping for a decent few days as there is lots to see in this old port - now booming city - by the Med.
Alas the steady rain has kept us inside where we are suppose to be - attending a bilingual educational conference.
The key to this type of gathering is to get your headphones early and hope that the professional translators are getting the right points. The English speaking keynoter plowed through some very heavy seas yesterday (brain research) and I hope the woman in the booth was on top of her vocabularly and nuances. I listened to three sessions from Turkish to English and it made sense - more or less.
Tonight it rains again.
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