Go tell Aunt Rodie the old grey goose is dead.

This is the first fall in roughly 18 years that I haven't had to go to school. I dunno about you, but I'm looking forward to being a student again.

I started working for African-American Studies this week. The first day was pretty chaotic since three professors needed to print out 30 copies of their syllabi (no, not syllabuses!) before their 9.30 class. Very unorganized. I was, however, quite:00 AMused by our local Islamic historian, who is close to retirement, when he opened a package of journal articles that had been stuck in his mailbox. As he read one of the articles in front of me he sighed and uttered, "What a pompous, arrogant man." He finished reading the article, shook his head and left the room. That's what I'm gonna be like when I grow up! The faculty members are all very friendly and I feel quite comfortable after only a few days on the job. I was even invited to a southern-style bbq at the departmental chair's house. I had to turn down the offer, unfortunately, but still it was a very nice gesture.

One thing from that job that has stuck with me is on my first day a student came in and stated that he needed to declare his major (as he wasn't able to register for a particular class until he had declared). My supervisor asked if he had seen his academic advisor (for the college, as opposed to our departmental advisor). His response was, "No, I haven't went to my advisor." He hadn't went to his advisor? Funny, I hadn't ever went to my advisor in college either, and I graduated just fine. And this guy is in at least his second year of university; probably his third. If this is going to be the result of standardized testing and No Child Left Behind, count me out. Call me an elitist if you will. I'm willing to accept that label. After all, I have an honours degree.

I went square dancing with my friend Sarah and her roommate on Monday night. I was pretty keen as it would seem that, being the countryphile I:00 AM, square dancing is an essential skill. I was a little concerned that I'd be pretty lousy at it though. Fortunately, my experiences in Scotland prepared me well as square dancing is a younger cousin to Scottish Country dancing (speaking of which, does anyone know of any good ceilidhs in the Twin Cities?). I was told that I was pretty good for a first-timer. It was quite fun. If anyone is interested, the dances happen at the Eagles' Club on 25th(?) every first Monday. Great musicians there as well.

I camped for part of Labor Day weekend; the weekend we celebrate those who gave their lives so that we could have 40-hour work weeks. I love camping, but i have RVs. Actually, there's a lot I hate. I hate being able to see my neighbors' tent. I hate being able to circumnavigate the park I'm staying at in less than an hour. I hate walking through a campsite and having it be as noisy as a city street. The Olympic Mountains spoiled me rotten. Nonetheless, I was able to escape early in the morning for a very pleasant three hours of fishing on the Rum River. I didn't catch anything, but I'm trying to keep the act of fishing the main thing and catching something as just a nice perk. It was beautiful...except for losing three brand new flies.

BTW: Jake's been writing some really interesting stuff in his last few posts. I suggest reading it. You may not agree with it, but it's nice to see what kind of ideas are bouncing around in his head. He's a pretty smart and articulate guy.