This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 1/19 - 1/23

Monday, January 19:

The wonderful thing about winter in New England is that when you get them, days like today, days in the mid thirties, with mostly blue skies and slight breezes now and again, feel balmy. No longer underwear, no thick socks, no heavy jacket, no down mittens, just a good coat, cap, and fast step, and you're all set.

Now here's the the other thing: there are times in the winter that are so cold that  there are days after them when the high teens and low twenties feel balmy too.

Tuesday, January 20:

The stop sign outside my window must feel particularly disrespected this morning as cars roll through it, maybe every third or fourth actually coming to a full stop, every fifth or so simply blithely ignoring it and not even pretending to be about to stop. I think even one just accelerated past it, actually sped through it as if it were a traffic light at yellow about to go red. So my question for today: will I be like the stop sign, depending on the kindness of others for respect?. And who will those others act? Like the courteous driver, who comes to a full stop in this residential neighborhood?; the impatient driver who slowly rolls through?; or the road boar who fully ignores the sign because lord knows that the two seconds saved in traffic by doing so means so much to the driver's ego? 

And when I drive, how will I behave? Well, given that I am a bad driver, anything is possible, but I'm inclined today to a longer than full stop, one I exaggerate as if giving a driver's education lesson.

Wednesday, January 21:

It's 10:33 a.m. and I haven't had breakfast yet, though I had have coffee. It's what comes from getting up early, reading and writing right away, and not noticing the time until three hours into work.

It's a good day that starts with reading and writing stuff that keeps you from food, maybe not a good habit for every day, but a good day none-the-less to wake energized and doing those two things.

Next up -- breakfast then a walk. But before that, I want to see if there's a voice t text app for my cell phone so that I can walk and write at the same time. I cannot walk and read -- too many obstacles (parked cars, curbs, telephone poles, branches, deep puddles of cold water or shallow patches of ice) to do that safely, but writing, well . . .

Thursday, January 22:

I really like this time of year, the start of a semester. Now is the time when conversations with students and teachers are most optimistic, when plans are still fresh, class chemistries are still forming. It's a hectic time, these first few weeks -- the period of add/drops; instructor assignment changes; waiting for books to be bought, borrowed, or shared; and the first dipping into any course edutech: textbook publisher learning tools, open education resources, locally coded sites, campus licensed stuff, or the same tools and services non students use all the time such as blogs, video sharing, and social sites. 

And experience says that not everything will go as planned. Some students won't read nor, if they do read, understand assigned work. Others will struggle to create accounts and get off to smooth start in their electronic spaces because of user errors. And too many of those spaces will be slow to load, have bugs, lack content, or simply not work as imagined. There will be hiccups, with online and offline learning. There always is.

Learning is hard, complicated, and unpredictable. People aren't widgets; schools aren't factories. Neither teachers nor students are uniformly designed. And so what's fun in the coming weeks is the work of helping people adjust to one another -- teachers to students -- and to the tools they use. What can supplement a book?, how can an assignment be adjusted?, how do you find a way to get to a goal within the limits of what a technology does?  

So for me, spring is the season of workshops, consultations, learning what worked and planning changes for fall, and other fun stuff. From now to May, no matter how rough things may get here and there as adjustments are made in the here and now of making the current semester work, it's really a forward looking and hopeful time.

Friday, January 23:

Today will be fun -- off to MIT to learn about their HyperStudio's AnnotationStudio software (http://www.annotationstudio.org/) for reading and writing. I've explored it a bit on my own, but today in a one day conference, we'll hear from the designers as well as teachers who use it. Nothing like a day spent exploring the pedagogy of learning software, especially when it's smart stuff from smart people.   

The nexus of technology and learning continually surprises and fascinates, and so while there are days when a job can get old -- use this form, fix that bug, complete expenses, the report is late, answer that question again -- there days like this, days of learning and thinking and imagining "what if we did . . ."

This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 1/12 - 1/16

I began the week on the road -- leading a workshop with great teachers at Dutchess Community College -- and then working from my portable office storage device at home, in coffee shops, and even for two and half hours, at the actual office.

Monday, January 12: On the slippery road again . . .

I got home Friday night, but this Monday finds me on the road again. I'm off, with a stop over in Hartford, CT tonight to do a workshop in Poughkeepsie, NY tomorrow.

So today I get to drive through snow and some sleet, or maybe just freezing rain, depends on the route. I'm kind of looking forward to that part, the driving in bad weather part, of today.

Driving in bad weather is actually fun -- a little sliding here, hydroplaning there, wipers not keeping up quite with volume and so visibility reduced, trees and guard rails coming closer, sideways blown weather . . . better than sledding on a lunch tray during recess.

Tuesday, January 13: How do you say that?

In Poughkeepsie today -- and by the way, Poughkeepsie is fun to say if you mispronounce it and enunciate each syllable as its own word, much the same way Worcester is fun to mispronounce -- for a workshop that addresses reading in college. Here's the url for the workshop blog in case you want some fun stuff on reading to read (use the resources link in the menu): http://dutchessworkshop.blogspot.com/.

Wednesday, January 14: Time is not on my side, yes it isn't

Am I this far behind, only 14 days into the New Year, because I've suddenly become inefficient? Or has the volume of what I need to get done expanded? I do not think it is inefficiency. After all, I play solitaire as crisply as ever and linger at the water cooler with the same elan as always and my afternoon naps -- marked as overseas conference calls in my calender -- are still only two hours, taken after my standard lunch of ice-cream and pretzels. No. I think it must be a volume issue. I must learn to say no.

Thursday, January 15: Charm only lasts so long for some frogs

I got into work at 7 a.m. today because getting into work meant shuffling from shower and shave to laptop, coffee in hand, cereal by my side, banana peeled, mimosa aflute, ready to go. My New Year's nonresolution -- I prefer gestures and water testing to resolve -- is to have a mimosa every morning for breakfast under the theory that it combines two great fruits - oranges and grapes - with a little effervescence.

If you see me and I'm effusive, cheerful, helpful, now you'll now why -- my morning glass of effervescence. If you see me and I'm not effervescent, that means it's 8:00 a.m. or later and you missed my window of charm.

Friday, January 16: I am my own auto-correct fail

I'm starting to mishear. My daughter was telling me about how she had to buck calls yesterday, and I said, "do you mean, 'duck calls?," meaning to me not answer the phone. She glanced at me, paused, and said, "Dad, I said _muck stalls_." Of course, since she works at a barn tending to horses that makes sense.

Now, it's one thing to mishear when another is speaking, but I sometimes mishear when I write. As I write, I say the words in my head. A few days ago I was writing an email and almost sent out "raisin finds" instead of "raise funds." That would not have been an auto-correct error. That would've been a "me  mishearing my own words as I inner speak to myself as I write what I say" error.

This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 1/5 - 1/10

This past week I was in fact out of the office, for the whole week, at the national sales meeting for Macmillan Higher Education (where I work) and the high school division, BFW High School. So you'll sense of theme.

Monday, January 5: A Room w/ a View, But in Only One Direction

I am in Huntington Beach, CA until Friday, at a hotel across the street - US 1, the Pacific Coast Highway - from the beach. Sadly, there is too much sand on the beach for my taste, the water is salty, so I will not cross over to the waves. But at least if you look west you see water, though not quite blue in color, more an industrial gray heavy green.

But it's nice to look at, maybe the only thing nice:

If you look south from the hotel, it's flat and dull until you see what look likes some kind of oil storage or processing facility, all done in gray.

If you look north, there's construction, with iron skeletons of shops, hotels, and condos yet to be born in the rust red and black of new iron works encased all around by silver scaffolding.

And to look east from the hotel, it's all gated communities with walls and Spanish style roofs.

-- So look west, especially at sunset:

West is best.

Tuesday, January 6: Lots of Books Get Carried and Shipped

A Textbook Publisher Sales Meeting Limerick:

A meeting in California

Is a textbook cornucopia

  If you happen to go,

  You really should know

That too many books gives a hernia

Wednesday, January 7: Apologies to Princess Leia

A long time ago, in a state far, far away . . .

. . . It is a period of the sales meeting

Travel away from Boston, gripped

in wind chill readings of minus -24

degrees, means those from there who

are here in Huntington Beach, CA have

won their first victory.

During the meeting, restless reps

make secret plans for their free afternoon.

Avoiding the doom of cognitive overload,

the break should refresh people with

enough power to survive through Thursday.

Friday, everyone who hasn't already left,

races home, most in cramped and crappy

coach seats, custodians of plans

that can save schools from the Evil

Galactic Empire's  MyLab Plus and restore

learning to the galaxy....

Thursday, January 8: If I'm Not at  E-Mail, You Shouldn't Be Either.

I am in the office, not out. I have access to email. So nothing's changed. But still, I may not reply automatically except for this automatic reply.

My office is my laptop, and it is in a hotel in California, not to be confused with the Hotel California in Peoria, Illinois. I am not at my laptop right now. I am either in a car on the way to campus, at a meeting at this hotel in one of their conference rooms, or six paces away on the bed watching a movie from 20 years ago where Richerd Gere is a lawyer defending an altar boy who . . . cannot stay awake any more.

I hope this reply finds you well and ready for the weekend, which can start now if you like. Really, go ahead. Leave, go home, get a drink, call it 5 pm on Friday. I won't tell.

Friday, January 9: Switching Songs of Home

All my bag's are packed, I'm ready to go . . .

Just can't wait to get home again . . .

To see my wife again . . .

Be in her arms again . . .

To wake up Saturday morning with her again . . .

Bonus -- Saturday, January 10: No, Not a Bad Cocaine Memory

I really wish it were possible to eat broth with a fork. Spoons scare me.

This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 12/29/204 - 1/2/2015

Though I only had a few days for required work this week, I kept a full slate of auto-responses to better mark the transition from 2014 to 2015. We begin at that beginning:

Monday, December 29: Resolving not to be Too Quick to Resolve

It's the last Monday of 2014.

Today is a good day to think about your new year's resolution, if you're so inclined.

If you're at work, things are likely more quiet than usual, most holiday parties past, many co-workers cramming in unused vacation and sick days before the new year starts.

If you're not at work, today is a pivot day of sorts on the break you are taking. Visiting relatives might be making their way home today, or you might be traveling back to where you're from, hopefully at a laconic pace that doesn't involve airports. Or maybe you're just resting quietly for a bit, doing some minor work while it's quiet, which is why you're getting this.

In either location -- at work or away from work -- today is a good day to think about next year.

My advice, don't think too much about it. Don't rush rashly to resolve. Let the year arrive, give it time to simmer, and make your adaptations quietly, over time. Ease into things. Make any resolutions or long term plans in February, after you get all tax paper work, final holiday bills, sense of what the issues are at work, at home, in the country as a whole.

Then make some plans, set a course, and find a way to stay sane that doesn't demand drastic or dramatic change or surgery...

Tuesday, December 30: Actual Out

Today finds me genuinely out of the office, off line for much of the day. 

Not that it matters to you too much because if you're writing me, there's nothing urgent at hand. I've delivered unto deadline what is deadline's, and now is the time for low level projects - the last expense report for the year, some tidying up of files, deleting of things past for which remembrance, let alone archiving, would be wasted, and other squaring-aways of the past year in preparation for the next.

I am looking forward to 2015, and the chance, from a work point of view, for new adventures in pedagogy and online learning. 

Wednesday, December 31: No TV Tonight

It's New Year's Eve,  or as we used to say when I tended bar and waited tables for a living, amateur night. If you're going out tonight, have fun. If you're not going out, you'll have more fun.

If you're staying in, whatever you do, do not turn on the television and watch the inexorable coverage of first nights, ball drop, fireworks, and the inane commentary of B-list singers, and local anchors trying to sound chipper between their shivers. There's nothing more desultory and cheerless than new year's eve coverage on television.

It's much more sensible to to take a good hardcover book and hit yourself about the head than it is to watch television coverage of the count down to the new year. At least when people asked you how you spent your new year's eve you can sound constructive about it -- I curled up with a good book.

So look, whatever you do tonight - be it stay home alone, stay home with family and friends, go out alone, or go out with family and friends - do it with the television off. Enjoy or despair the moment, wherever you are and whatever your mood, live and direct, not through a screen.

Thursday, January 1: Flower Power Redux

This will be redundant in its way, but here goes:  Hippy Nude Year!

Friday, January 2: A Year of Travel Kharma in One Day?

Have I used all my travel kharma for 2015 today?

I needed to get to Hartford from Canton, Ma. My plan was to rent a car from Logan because I fly out early Sunday morning and the car rental from Friday to Sunday is cheaper than -- get this -- a cab to the airport from my house Sunday am.

But, at the last minute, I had an appointment come up that meant I couldn't leave as early as planned for the airport. I though for sure I'd be late to the meeting in Hartford.

But . . .

  I got t the train at Canton Junction just in time to catch the, coming onto the platform and stepping aboard as the last passenger just as it was about to pull away.

  At South Station, I transferred to the Silver Line, stepping aboard just as the bus was to pull away for it's run to Logan.

  At Logan, I transferred from the Silver Line to the car rental shuttle, stepping aboard just as the door closed.

  At the rental car center, I hit no line, FastBreak was fast, no line, the envelope waiting, the car there, with no line at the exit booth.

  I hit no traffic delays on the Pike.

  

So instead of being a half hour to forty minutes late, I was ten minutes early, a minor miracle. 

I hope I don't have to pay the kharma bank back on Sunday after I land at LAX and begin the drive to Huntington Beach.

This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 12/22 - 12/26

Though it was a holiday week, with the office closed anyway from 12/24 at noon through the weekend, was doing some work each day, if only the work of changing my auto-response messages. Which of course is play too.

Monday, December 22: Merry Monday

Merry Monday to you, merry Monday to you, merry Monday, merry Monday, merry Monday to you.

Though today is not my birthday, the birthday song is fun to make up words to any day.  I'd go on to a riff on the "how old are you now" verse, but asking about age is impolitic.  In case you're wondering, however, I am 65, though if you meet me ever you'll swear I look young for my age. And I do. I find that after a certain point, if you're going to lie about your age, it's better to lie up.

In fact, if I were writing a self-help book, that would be the title of one of its chapters: 

"It's OK to Lie About Your Age if You Lie Up (Unless You Are Under 21)"

And the chapter might open with these lines:

Actually it's more than o.k., it's in fact wise to lie up about your age. First, most people who do lie, unless they are under 21, lie down. Which means then that you have to live down to your age. Lie up and live it up. Plus lying up on age is aspirational -- adding years gives you a number to shoot for, is in its way life affirming. 

Tuesday, December 23: Dick and Jane

This is Nick's auto-response.

"Look," says Dick.
"See it in the inbox.
See it ready to be read."

"Yes," says Jane.
"Yes, I see it in the inbox.
Will you open it?"

Dick clicks on Nick.

"See," says Dick.
"See what Nick says."

Jane calls, "Sally, come see."

Sally says, "Nick auto replied to Dick."

"It is in Dick's inbox.

I see it already.

Can we go have cookies and scotch now?"

"Silly, Sally," says Jane. "Cookies and scotch are for after work."

"Let's leave work now," says Dick.

"Yes," says Sally, "Then it can be after work."

See Dick and Jane and Sally leave work.

See them forget the cookies.

Wednesday, December 24: 'Tis the Day Before Christmas

Tis the day before Christmas, and all through the house

No technology is stirring, not even a mouse

Well, that's not true. We used the toaster today at breakfast, and the t.v. is on, and my daughter's in her room listening to music via an mpg3 player. And the lights are on, and soon we'll be using the oven, not to mention we did drive a  car, and my other daugther made a card with water colors and brushes, an art technology.

So a revision. Because in an auto reply one should not lie:

'Tis the day before Christmas, and all the through the house,

All technology is whirring, _except_ the email mouse.

Thursday, December 25: Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

I hope your day brings joy and good company, though I hope that for everyone everyday.

If you are one to give and receive gifts on this day, I hope you receive more than you give  -- that the monetary value of the gifts you receive is higher than whatever you spent on the gifts you gave. Or I hope that you at least break even if you can in that regard.

Now wishing you a profit isn't to diminish the joy of giving that today is about for so many. I hope you do know the joy of giving.

Unless you've managed the minor Christmas miracle of getting everyone just the right gift, gifts that bring genuine joy to their hearts and show you to be a gift giver of superior talent and sensitivity, so much so that you shame those lame gift-givers that seem this time of year to abound. Not that I'm jealous of your your gift to gift, but if you're a perfect gifter,  I hope you stub your toe and find lumps in your mash potatoes.

Friday, December 26: The First Return

And lo, on this day Mary and Joseph wrapped their babe in swaddling clothing and went to the agora to exchange the gold, incense, and myrrh for more practical things, like a bed, fresh camels, and a place to live.  The stable looks good in a creche, but not so much for bringing up the King of Kings. This was no easy thing in those days, because the good agora was far away, and the caravan traffic slow and heavy. But though Joseph was tired and wanted to stay home, Mary insisted they shop and trade, telling Joseph he could buy some wine and goat meat on a stick and wait till she was done for all she cared, but he had to lead the donkey she rode there because she needed to hands to hold the kid.

And so began the tradition of exchanging gifts the day after Christmas, where men and women who cannot stand being out now sit over beer and nachos in any bar at or near the mall waiting while their partners to correct imperfect gifts or to put those gift cards to use, which is always more pleasant because you don't have to find the gift receipt, if one was provided.

And thus it was decreed that for people over 13*, the perfect gift is cash, not a gift card with its fees and worse god help those who suffer them, good for only a particular store or mall, but cash. Of the three magi, the wisest was he who brought gold, and so Mary sent him the first thank you note.

*For 13 and under toys. Not clothes. Especially not socks and most especially not pajamas. Toys -- and if the toys are to nieces and nephews, loud ones, to help your brothers and sisters not sleep in on Saturday's and Sunday's.
 

This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 12/15 - 12/19

About This Week in Auto Response

Each workday, I write a new auto response e-mail for my work address only: nick.carbone AT macmillan DOT com. If anyone e-mails me, they get an auto response, even on days when I'm in the office. I mean why not? It's not quite a "set it and forget it" move, but the auto response does at least confirm for a send of e-mail to me that their letter has arrived.

http://bit.ly/1qEx6Pv for a note on the rhetoric of auto responses.

Monday, December 15: Blank You, Spam

I do hope you do not mind getting this automatic reply. Please feel free to fill in the ending blank:

Because I must do that work due that I do so well, I reply to tell that my unread inbox will swell.  I've turned off the chime, shut down the bell, so no alerts my progress will quell. If you need a response I'll get back in a spell. Unless you've sent spam, in which case, you can just go to ___.

Tuesday, December 16: Peter, Paul, and Mary and Me

I've been thinking about hammers of late, and the Peter, Paul, and Mary song that starts, "If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning . . ." keeps popping into my head because of it.

A hammer is a technology in search of things that need hammering: nails, of course, but sometimes horseshoes, or pegs, or the handle of a chisel, or metal to be shaped . . .

Hammers vary and can be banged for a lot of different purposes and situations. Sort of like writing. Writing is a technology in search of things that need hammering out too. I guess that would make the song go like this:

I'd write out danger,
I'd write out a warning,
I'd writer out love between,
My brothers and my sisters,
All over this land.

Wednesday, December 17: It's a Wonderful E-Mail

Quotes from It's a Wonderful E-Mail, the story of an outbox in despair because it thinks it makes no difference what it sends; Outbox learns its messages matter after an angel in need of wings shows Outbox how its messages have made a difference.

Hey look, Outbox. We serve hard drinks in here for unwritten mail that wants to get drunk fast, and we don't need any characters around to give the joint "atmosphere".  

Strange, isn't it? Each e-mail touches so many other lives. When it isn't sent around it leaves an awful hole, doesn't it? 

Remember, Outbox: no e-mail is a failure that has contacts.  

You see, Outbox, you've really had a wonderful e-mail. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to never send again? 

A toast to Nick's Outbox: The longest messages in town. 

Every time an autoreply is read to the end, an angel gets its wings. 

Thursday, December 18: I Am a Romantic, but Not Ridolfo

Right now the rain is almost snow. Some drops are clearly water, some white globs, slush on the way to being flakes. Given a few more degrees, I'd need a shovel today. But the degrees that do come will be warmer not cooler and so no shoveling just yet. Still, it's good sweater and hot drinks weather, simmer a stew weather, and, sitting with a warm computer on one's lap, in the cozy glow of the snow-white editing screen longing for words, writing weather. 

This is clearly not La Boheme, I'm no Rodolfo writing despite the cold in a gusty garret, but there is something Romantic to writing on a blustery day, even if only for work. Some of the stuff I'll be working on, the pedagogical stuff not the expense report stuff, requires idealism, passion, and even with all the science I know, respect for what remains mystic and uncanny about teaching and learning. So that's largely what I'll be doing today, writing stuff for courses I won't be teaching, instructors who are not me, students who will not be my own, creating imaginary classrooms with real students in them.

Friday, December 19: Writing to Unstuff

My head is stuffed. No, not because my ego is bloated (though it often is), in which case anyway, to be pedantic, I'd've said my head is swelled, but rather because I get allergies from, I suppose, dust in the winter, when windows and doors stay closed  and the air dries.

And so, while I wait for my daily ZYRTEC® to take effect , which I wash down with my morning shot of brandy, another winter tradition used only as a daily medicinal against the allergy, which medicinal, because it makes me sleepy, is followed by two cups of coffee, a brisk shower, and a morning walk to my office, which, since I work at home, is a short perambulation of six strides from bedroom to living room where couch and laptop await, I work on small things that can happily be done with a stuffed head in something of a slight haze.

Today that work is converting Microsoft Word documents of multiple-choice quizzes into the Respondus quiz format. It's tedious markup, remind me much of the days when I used to write with Word Star, a wonderful word processer that wasn't WYSIWYG when I used it. You were never quite sure until you printed whether the underlining or italics you marked up the text to have were rightly marked up. Same too with converting a quiz in Word to one in Respondus. It ain't until you import that Respondus manuscript that you really know whether there's an error.

So the work is tedious because I didn't write the quizzes, don't like the quizzes -- they're banal grammar questions, not fun at all -- is really a matter of conversion as a favor to a professor using some of our technology.

Such sometimes is the glamorous life I lead and why today, though my head is stuffed, it sure as hell ain't swelled.

This Week in E-Mail Auto Response, 12/09 - 12/12

Series Introduction

I have, in an effort to be more efficient at work, decided that I will only check my work e-mail  -- nick.carbone at macmillan dot com -- twice a day. And thus since replies will not be instant, each day I will write a new auto response so that my virtual correspondents know that in due time I will in fact read their tender missives.

I began this new approach with great resolve on December 9, a Tuesday. Though I suppose I could have saved it for a New Year's resolution, I believe in starting early when an idea is good. Also, it's year-end review season, and I can point to the tactic as an accomplishment in the same way that having a child just before the end of year is a great tax break.

Here are the auto responses for this first week. Each Friday, I'll post the weekly collection. Whatever I use as Friday's message will stay through the weekend.

See http://bit.ly/1qEx6Pv for a note on the rhetoric of out of office auto responses.

 

Tuesday, December 9:

And on the 9th day of December, the skies opened and the rain deluged, and verily I said unto me --- 'tis a good day to stay home and write unperturbed by the nuisance of a drench-the-trenchcoat commute to an office where, once I arrived, I would simply be writing while wet, with door shut to be undisturbed, meeting with no one, talking to no one. So I am home writing dry. If you need me, write me. If you need me to pay attention immediately, call me, my number's in the .sig below.

Though come to think of it, if you are seeing this iteration of my o/o/o, you are not someone who works in my office, and so it makes no difference to you where I am because it's not like you're in my office looking for me. But at least now you know I'm dry. And writing.

Wednesday, December 10:

Once upon a time I came to the office, sat at my desk, and turned on the automatic reply message. I then shut down my e-mail program. It was a gray and blustery day, and my work for the day included one brief face to face meeting and then lots of reading & writing. So I am in full e-mail denial if you are reading this: I've silenced the e-mail notification ding and icon and removed the e-mail shortcut from the start tray. If you're reading this far, know that I will blithely ignore my inbox until tomorrow. If you really need my attention, best to call.

Thursday, December 11:

Thank you for writing. No, really, I do mean it. Thank you. Even if your e-mail consternates, requires me to jump-to something, means more work of one kind or another, thank you. Sure, an e-mail of some other kind -- notice of good news, a gentle reminder to do something pleasant, like "Nick, don't forget to take your office nap today," praise of any kind, even if it's not for me -- might be more enjoyable, and so if you're sending one of those, consider my thanks even more profuse.

But really, whatever you send, since I'm a don't-let-the-sunshine-spoil-your-rain kind of guy, thanks. I'll get back to you as soon as I get back to e-mail reading, which is now deliberately intermittent.

Today my attention will be enslaved by other things, more, so I hope, productive things. 

Friday, December 12:

The Incredible True Story of the First Textbook

Because my new work efficiency diet requires me to cut down on my e-mail consumption, let me tell you a very truthy story while you wait for my reply.

Today is Friday, December 12, with only 378 days until Christmas 2015. On this day in 105 AD, paper making was invented in China. On the next day, that would be December 13, 105, the first textbook was published. No, not by Macmillan, we're not that venerable. The book was print on hand-written command. The first draft required readers to scroll, but after two unrolls to see more text, eye-ball tracking revealed that reading stopped; instead, students took to watching thieves get their hands cut-off, the role-playing video game activity of the time. Professors, since times were stricter then, tried corporal punishment, but the poking students in the eye with a stylus and yelling "since you will not do the assigned reading, dog, you do not need this!" proved counter-productive. So in revision, the book came out in a compact edition, a single sheaf, no scrolling required. However, by then, in addition to to thief punishment, other diversions had emerged -- ceramics was a growing hobby, and rice krispie treats were invented because opium had been discovered too. hus in its third revision, the book was reduced to an illustrated koan that could be copied by just about anyone. And so it spread, almost like a virus, across the land, causing giggles with each forward. But it also put the publisher out of business.

Glad those days are gone.

Meanwhile, I do check e-mail, but only twice a day, not constantly. So I will find your message eventually and if it requires one from me, I will respond. If a response is not required, know that I read every word you wrote, underlining the good ones.