Sunday, January 17, 2010

New Year's Resolve

Given the length of the interval since the previous TDC post and the intention to post more frequently and regularly proclaimed in the year's inaugural post, I have to confess once again to overpromising and underdelivering so far this year. I blame, in part, my inability to keep up with my resolution to blog (daily!?) on the demands of our other resolutions, which we have stuck to so far, with good results.

This semester is going to be a demanding one for us, with increased teaching responsibilities piling upon already burgeoning research requirements: M. is wrapping up the big Dissertation and teaching at Brandeis, and I'm founding a new math course and trying to publish, publish, publish in preparation for next year's job market. (It already appears that this year will be a wash in the employment department, but somewhat perversely this is a bit of a relief, as at least we are spared the anxiety accompanying tentative plans to move on to new jobs and new vistas.)

Along with the rest of the planet, we took the opportunity presented by the opening of a new calendar year to pledge ourselves to leading more virtuous lives and embracing salutary habits. We take heart in the investment brokers' caveat that past performance is no guarantee of future returns: Last year I resolved to

  • take a walk each evening.
  • watch no more than one TV show per night, and at most three per week.
  • stop surfing the web and reading the news online on weekends.
  • quit reading the news and checking email first thing in the morning.
  • quit reading the news and checking email immediately before bed.
  • avoid restaurants with televisions.


To remind myself I posted the list conspicuously close to my computer screen, always within my visual field when typing, but then I proceeded to ignore it assiduously. Resolution success rate? Approximately zero, though mindless TV consumption plummeted when we killed our subscription to cable TV.

This year our goals were no more modest, but we have approached them differently, and we have external support in meeting them. My teaching duties begin at 9, and we agreed that we wanted to exercise before work so that we would have the entire workday available, uninterrupted by nagging thoughts about when and whether to head to the gym. (The cost in time of traveling to work, home, gym, stores, etc. imposes significant limitations on our flexibility. Getting around Boston is simply a pain in the posterior.) In order to have time for all of the lifting, running, etc. we want and still be able to arrive punctually at BU and Brandeis, we have to hit the gym close to opening time. We spent a week acclimating ourselves to a radically different schedule: Five days a week, we awake at 5:15, pull ourselves together and catch the 5:45 bus. We arrive at the gym by 6, then lift, run, etc. for two hours. M. heads to Waltham by 8:15, and I go to my office to review my lecture notes. I teach, prepare more class notes, and then try to work uninterrupted until 6 or so. M. also teaches in the morning, then has the afternoon hours available as a solid block of writing time. We reconvene around 7 at home, cook a preplanned meal together, eat without electronic distractions, and then have an hour or two of free time before we wind down for sleep by 10.

One strict rule we follow is that we turn off all electronics (internet, television, radio) at least one hour before bedtime. Our brains settle and the hyperactive buzz of the pointlessly distracting outside world fades. We sleep well.

The biggest initial obstacle was adjusting to the sleep schedule, which appeared to be a self-constructed temporal cage. (Back in my pseudo-martial phase, early to bed, early to rise, regular exercise was my mantra, so I was mentally prepared to arise before dawn and immediately exert myself, but my body was not.) After a week, however, we were used to it and even felt less tired than before. Now we fall asleep quickly at bedtime and we awaken at the right time without the crutch of an alarm. (The weekend schedule is different, and we sleep in to the decadent hour of eight. There is a kind of secret deliciousness in being awake to enjoy the dawn while the rest of the city slumbers.)

So far, we have kept most of our resolutions (some cribbed from the NYTimes health blog):


  • Floss daily.
  • Eat dinner together at the dining room table.
  • Get enough sleep.
  • Turn off all electronics at least one hour before bed.
  • Sit up straight. (I'd been having back pain from poor posture.)
  • Pay cash.
  • Blog daily.


The last one is the hardest. (I'll cover a few of these resolutions in more detail in a later post.)

All in all, our routine, which we've now kept up for two weeks, is salubrious and refreshing, not burdensome. We seem to be less stressed, even though we are working as much or more than before. I certainly think more effectively and work more efficiently. But among the consequences are that we spend less time each day with our home computers, and we feel less inclination to do so. That includes spending time blogging. But perhaps a bit of blogging now and then can be worked into the routine. In the meantime, perhaps you, gentle reader, would be gracious enough to fill the void?

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Jonathan Lethem, Clothed


At the end of last October, though we were nearly somnambulant from writing papers and job application materials, M. and I convened at Coolidge Corner Theatre to hear Jonathan Lethem read from his new book, Chronic City. I had obtained tickets from the Booksmith a month in advance: I counted Lethem as one of my favorite active authors, even though I had only read a remaindered copy of Motherless Brooklyn (soon to be a movie) found at the Friends of the Library sale a couple of years earlier. The Booksmith had anticipated a large crowd, too much for its used book basement to contain, but the theater was only a quarter full, if that, and I think Lethem and his hosts were rather disappointed that attendance was so far below the mark set by Nick Hornby.

Undeterred, Lethem read almost the entire first chapter for us, and it was fantastic. Though my eyelids were leaden, the reading (and Lethem is quite adept and engaging as a public reader) kept me alert and engaged for the whole hour. (Poor M., much more exhausted by the month than I, did nod off.) He also answered a few questions (Writing a comic book was a life's dream but in the end unrewarding enough for him to do it again; the process of reading for the audiobook is too taxing for him.) before we repaired to the bookshop for the signing. I very seldom buy hardcover books, and I even less frequently stand in line for an author's signature, but this one seemed worth it. (Lethem signed each book efficiently, but did add a few flourishes beyond the normal illegible scrawl of a name.)

IMG_0552


As excited as I was when I purchased Chronic City, I didn't find time to read it until Christmas break. It is a great book, extremely well written. (The reviewers at the NY Times, among others, agree with me, and have listed it among the best books published in 2009.) Word for word, sentence for sentence, Lethem is an outstanding writer: It is the quality of his prose which propels the novel much more than the plot, which involves, among other things, conspiracy theories, Manhattan writ large, marijuana (superficially essential, in the fashion of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels or The Big Lebowski), and (tangentially) an astronaut marooned in orbit. (The narrative admittedly sags a bit in the middle of its arc but rebounds with verve and intelligence at the end.) Chronic City is perhaps the best novel I've read in the past five to ten years exploring one of the four great literary themes of this (post-?)post-modern era, the Great Metaphysical (epistemological? ontological? it all blends together) Conundrum: What (can I trust) is real? (The other three themes being, of course, We're All Connected (an idea worn thin ever since Go (definitely since Crash) by Hollywood's gimmicky repackaging of intellectually threadbare scripts into "deep" cinema), The End of the World (see Cormac McCarthy), and Zombies.) Though they are very different writers, now that we no longer have Kurt, I'm glad we have Jonathan.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Bonne Année!

After a monthlong hiatus, we are returning to regular TDC blogging and, in terms of content, tacking back in the direction of the blog's original aims. As the marvelous M. has said, referring reprovingly to the thematic devolution apparent in the last few posts, we can't allow TDC to degenerate into yet another repository of "Foolish Crap I Found on the Internet" -- and it shan't.

Happy New Year to all, and stay tuned!