SabbatiBlogue

The party's over

Ooof! Today the atmosphere here is a little more conducive to writing blogs entries, academic articles, and such. Mardi Gras went out like someone pulled the plug. But I do have a second photo album: "Mardi Gras: Mardi."

Mardi Gras, y'all

Sometimes life gets so big that you can either blog about it or live it but not both.

I have been taking pictures, though: Mardi Gras Acadiana.

Yesterday it was the Spanish Town Mardi Gras parade in Baton Rouge. Can any good thing come from Baton Rouge? Yep. Great company, a fun parade that seemed never to end. and lots of beads.

Last night I was at the Liberty Theater in Eunice listening to La Bande Feufollet and Jesse Legé. After, it was off to the ball at St. Thomas More in Eunice, with Ann & Marc Savoy and others playing. I had never heard fiddler Ken Smith before; it was just fantastic.

Today I am skipping Church Point in order to put my life in better order and to go to church. This afternoon, it's Whiskey River Landing to hear Steve an' 'em and Balfa Toujours.

Happy Mardi Gras.

Conan: "je suis désolée"

Conan apologized. His apology, in contrast with his offense, seems to have been funny. I can't be sure because I only read about it. I don’t feel inspired to watch him.

(much the same story, in French)

Désolée II

Okay, bon, je suis plus calme qu’hier.

Je ne sais pas encore s’il est juste que je demande pardon, en tant qu’Anglo et Américaine, pour le sketch raciste de Conan O’Brien. Mais je le refais en français : Je demande pardon quand même et j’ai hâte d’ajouter qu’il y a beaucoup d’Américains qui apprécient la culture québécoise, et beaucoup plus qui l’aimeraient s’ils la connaissaient.

Pour changer le sujet: Il a fait du soleil aujourd'hui: excellent.

Désolée, profondément désolée

I'm so mad I probably shouldn't post anything. But it's been 24 hours and I'm still mad. And forgive my English. I'm too steamed to write in French.

Conan O'Brien's show last night featured some of the most bigotted material I have ever seen in public. It was masquerading as comedy, but it was not funny. Comedy sometimes crosses the line. This was never on the good side of that line. Insulting people in their second language so that "we" anglos can watch and laugh at those being insulted... And the stupidest tiredest emptiest meanest insults! I'm afraid I can't quite be coherent. I watched this last night with my jaw dropped, hoping I wasn't seeing what I saw. There was also a bit of sexism and antifat non-humor, and garden-variety (or playground level) homophobia. I hope that O'Brien is made to apologize fifty ways to sundown. In fact, and I don't say things like this lightly, I hope he loses his show.

There are so many negative aspects to this. First, a pretty fabulous ethnic group was slandered by a comedian with a big following. Does this behavior become more acceptable then? I hope not. Second, every insult leveled at the Québécois--insular, tiresome, hostile, monolingual, and smelly--was in fact personified and performed by the Americans on video. Especially the smelly--this comedy stinks.

I have worked fairly diligently in my career to open the eyes of American students to the richness of the diverse world around them. And I have worked to make known the particular treasure that is the francophone culture of our continent. I reach maybe fifty students a year with this perspective. It was disheartening to see Conan O'Brien reach hundreds of thousands in just a few minutes with the opposite message.

I don't know if it's helpful for me to apologize. But I want to write le tout Québec to say how sorry I am that this happened. I am mortified at this behavior from such a visible American. I know his mama raised him better.

Ça mouille

Ça mouille! Dans la cour il n’y a pas de terre, pas de gazon. Il y a des mini lacs connectés par des mini bayous, séparés par des mini marécages. Partout à Lafayette, il y a de la boue.

Ça mouille depuis trois jours. Combien longtemps ça peut continuer? Il ne fait pas trop frette, au moins. Personne veut sortir. Où est mon pirogue?

Care to throw vegetables at the Grammys?

Darn. I was hoping to be regaled with Lane-Prose or Tina-Prose about how much the Grammys sucked. But maybe they sucked so bad or were just so plain uncool in advance that the Veggies didn't watch.

In the absence of enthousiasm from Eat Your Vegetables, I offer this, quoted from the Edmonton Journal, concerning the nonworking microphone/Céline Dion incident:

It was a painfully awkward moment -- Dion's mouth was moving, but her voice sounded like a panicked American man -- until she was handed a new microphone. She could've stormed off in frustration, but she pulled off a graceful performance.

I love the rich critique of unitedstatesian hegemony implicit in "panicked American man." While watching Céline with that voice coming from her, I thought it was a drag queen. But with the second mic she sang a good song. Several commentators asserted that although they are non-fans of Céline, they admired her professionalism in that moment and she sang really well. I myself was impressed and even moved, although I detest her singing style.

Questions remain:

Why am I mucking up Lane & Tina's blog with Céline Dion?

Will I be able to pull off a backtrack? Will I be deleted?

Why am I the only one to put the accent in Céline?

What the samhill does this have to do with my sabbatical? Most specifically, why is there a "Television" category on my SabbatiBlog?

Don't let television happen to your sabbatical, may you get one soon. A sabbatical, not a television.

Grammy week here

You may know that there is a movement afoot to establish a Grammy category for Cajun and Zydeco music. Here is an article on the fundraiser held tonight at the Blue Moon Saloon. It was posted almost before the stage was cleared.

While we are speaking English and all, here are some related articles:

"Grammy Glory: Local Musicians Head to LA for the Big Dance."

"Bayou band heads for L.A. and Jersey

"

Haiku north and south

Churches in the south are a little different from churches in the north, even Episcopal ones. Maybe especially Episcopal ones. I love both, of course. They each inspire me in different ways.

Haiku for 60 degrees Fahrenheit

Episcopal, south
Fur draped across my prayer book
From the pew in front

And:

Haiku for -6 Fahrenheit

Episcopal, north
Priest: her robe white like snow drifts
Inside, water flows

Too much free time.

Puis le meilleur disque cadien est…

Bon Rêve, de Steve Riley & the Mamou Playboys. Est-ce qu’il est trop tard d’offrir mon opinion? Quand l’album a paru au mois de septembre, j’ai été éblouie. Je n’avais pas de confiance dans ma réaction parce que c’était extrême. J’avais certainement tort, non? Ma réaction :

C’est le meilleur album cadien que j’ai jamais écouté. Plus spécifiquement (pour ne pas répéter les lieux communs), Bon Rêve est au moins 30% meilleur que tout autre enregistrement de musique cadienne.

Un jour, ma réaction était à cause des harmonies de la « Chanson de Savoy » : trois voix masculines parfaitement balancées sur une seule pointe de solitude tracassé. Le lendemain, c’était pour la tendresse des paroles de « Bon rêve » un tribut à Canray Fontenot. Peu après, c’était pour les rythmes assidus de « Coco d'œil dans le fond du puit ». Et toujours : « Vini, Jilie », une chanson inexplicablement belle.

Et quelle qualité! Pas une note fausse. Pas une chanson mal choisie. Le tout chanté dans un français enraciné dans le cœur. En plus, le long travail qu’ont fait Steve Riley, David Greely et Sam Broussard en produisant l’album était évident. La musique est polie comme un couteau en argent : une tranchante beauté impeccable.

Est-ce possible qu’une réaction aussi extrême était bien fondée? Peut-être que je travaillais trop dur, que le climat d’Iowa m’avait touchée? Ou est-ce que j’avais raison?

J’ai fait comme le narrateur dans le poème de Zachary Richard, « Cri sur le Bayou »,

J'ai regardé autour de moi,
Furtif, me demandant si
Quelqu'un d'autre
L'aurait entendu

Aussi.

J’ai parlé avec le monde autour de moi, me demandant si les autres pensaient que Bon Rêve était aussi bon que je pensais.

Peu à peu, les autres se sont déclarés pour la qualité exceptionnelle du CD pendant que moi, timide, je restais dans le silence. Mais, s'il n'est pas trop tard, je n’hésite plus à le dire : Bon Rêve est le meilleur album de musique cadienne.

Bon livre

Et quel est ce livre idéal pour une prof qui ne lit pas assez? Quel livre est-ce que j’ai lu avec tant d’intérêt? C’était The Cajuns : Americanization of a People par Shane K. Bernard. C’est une histoire sociale du peuple cadien, de la Deuxième guerre mondiale jusqu’au présent.

C’est un livre bien utile qui fait attention à une matière beaucoup discuté mais trop peu étudié jusqu’ici.
C’est un livre académique; il y a beaucoup de notes. Mais ça se lit avec beaucoup de plaisir, aussi. C’est rare pour une œuvre qui a commencé sa vie comme une thèse de doctorat. Il est rare aussi que je lise sans interruption. absorbée par ma lecture.

SabbatiGoal: Read More

I have a scandalous confession: I don’t read much. I’m a professor and an intellectual, and I don’t read much.

Of course, I have to qualify that. I do spend a lot of time reading: student papers (when I’m not on sabbatical), e-mails, web pages, memos from the Dean, the readings for my classes, textbook brochures, calls for papers. Much is lacking in this reading, however. Most of it is fragmented and all of it is fairly short, the Dean’s memos excepted, of course. I do an approximate job of keeping up in my new field, but that feels even more fragmented since I don’t yet have a solid routine for that.

When I was a child I read constantly. I would talk in class just before recess so that I would be made to stay inside, where I could read any book in the empty classroom. My mother once punished me for some forgotten trespass by forbidding me to read anything that wasn’t homework. A really bad idea that nearly killed us both. In college I always had a few books going at once and had to carry at least two with me everywhere.

What changed all this? My dissertation. I used to joke, “I don’t read in English any more.” But it was almost true: I read the secondary sources (mostly in English) necessary for the dissertation, the intricate sonnets in French, and that was it! Most of that time I was not reading in a linear fashion because I was skimming, taking notes, checking one paragraph here, one quatrain there. Always I was taking notes. Never did I get lost in the pleasure of reading, of devouring a book, of letting the book consume me.

Since the dissertation I’ve had some great reading jags: feminist theology, French colonial history, Acadian sociology, Cajun music, French travel writing from North America. These are short-lived, though because pedagogical and administrative responsibilities come back to me like bleeding children through summer’s screen door.

A sabbatical goal, then, is to find again this habit of absorbed reading. Linear. Devouring. Maybe a novel!

This weekend I made a great start with the perfect book. I’ll later this week.

Café #1: Mello Joy Café

Mello Joy Café. This is my new favorite café. It’s been here about six months, but the name is a long-time Cajun mainstay. If Community Coffee is the coffee of New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and the southeast of Louisiana, it was Mello Joy in Acadiana until Community bought it out in the mid-sixties and killed the name. Somehow the people in Lafayette have taken up the name and put it on some good coffee that you can buy in the grocery store. Its goofy yellow bag is a trademark.

This café is located in an old drycleaners in downtown Lafayette. They have preserved the high ceilings and brick walls while featuring the yellow theme. There is food at noon and pastries always. They offer the usual range of coffee, from espresso to the classic Mello Joy brewed coffee, which would be a bargain at $1 even if there were not free refills. The forks are real and the cups are china and come with saucers, imagine!

The internet connections are either wireless or plug-in, free. They’ll even loan you a card for the wireless. Because of its downtown location, this café is much less crowded after 5 or so than the other cafés in town. Take note, you denizens of CCs.

Maybe the greatest thing about this café is the staff. When they are not busy they sometimes come fetch your cup to bring you a refill. One staffer has taken great care in decorating the place for Mardi Gras. She’s got big plans for Easter.

Café bye bye

My café days may be coming to an end. I finally bit the bullet and signed up for cable and a high speed internet connection. It will cost over one fourth of what my rent and other utilities cost. I've never had cable and usually don't have my TV plugged in. The only other choice was getting a phone (which I also don't need) and DSL. Why can’t one get just an internet connection? At least this way I will get a French TV station.

So I won’t be posting on my blogs, tweaking templates, uploading web pages, managing e-mail from the cafés. But the time spent in them has been really fun. It’s cheaper than the cable-internet combo. It’s more social. Someone else makes the coffee.

Tomorrow or Tuesday, a little tour of my cafés.