The Curmudgeonly Professor

In My Eighty-First Year: Six Things I Wish I Had Learned in College: Learning is a Lifetime Quest

Here we are talking about my undergraduate degree in agricultural economics from the University of Wyoming in 1953.  My undergraduate degree was basically a science degree and, indeed, at least one of my classmates used his undergraduate ag degree to apply directly to medical school and was admitted.  The majority of the classes were science--zoo, botany, chemistry, a dozen or more agriculture classes in agronomy, animal husbandry, feeds and feeding, etc.  Since my interests were broader than ag science, I crowded in four classes in American History, a class in sociology (which I loathed), two required classes in poli sci (which I loathed, but mostly because of a tyrant prof who criticized me in front of the class for the fact that the window blind pull cord broke when he asked me to fix the blind), several courses in journalism (I loved writing and journalism, but could never have graduated in four years had I changed my major), and all of the required courses in education so I could become a high school vocational agriculture teacher.  I thought the education classes were ridiculously easy and lacked substance.

I was lucky to graduate in four years, since I had worked 30-40 hours a week all through school to earn enough money for Van Camp's pork and beans and other culinary delights, buy my books, and take my girlfriend to the movies now and then.  After we married my senior year, my grades sharply improved and I made all A's spring term, except for one B.  Fortunately for that, since grad school reviewers looked at those courses and the grades, overlooking pitiful performance some quarters when I basically just gave up and plodded on in a stupor.

But, over my life, I have regretted not being able to expand my course work to pick up the following subjects:

• Classical literature.  I know nothing about the classics.  I am trying to learn a bit in my old age, but my knowledge of the classics is pathetic.
• Literature in general.  My only literature consisted of a few measly, anemic, required readings in freshman English.  I learned about literature at the Blue Front in Ann Arbor while working on my Ph.D. at Michigan.  The Blue Front was a disorganized paperback and newspaper store where I went to pick up the Washington Post and the New York Times.  The paperback books were partly in racks, but many were in boxes randomly scattered on the floor.  One day, I began sorting through the boxes on the floor and found a copy of Thomas Wolfe's "You Can't Go Home Again." and I was hooked forever.  Literature became my tranquilizer for studying economics and trying to pass exams and orals.  Thank you Thomas Wolfe for opening the pores of my brain forever, regardless of what the critics keep saying about your book.
• Math.  My math education was pathetic.  Economics, at the graduate level, is based on mathematical competence.  I had high school algebra, high school geometry (which I goofed off in and didn't learn anything), and another course in college algebra.  My math education wouldn't measure up to my grandkids' eighth grade math competence.  And here I was competing with my close friend and fellow Ph.D. classmate who had an honors undergrad degree in math from Swarthmore.  All my college and teaching and research career, I suffered from math inadequacy.
• Art and art history.
• Though I crammed in four courses in American History, which I loved, and partly because the professor, Gale McGee (who went on to become U.S. Senator and Ambassador to the Organization of American States), was as masterful a lecturer as I ever had anywhere in college, I knew nothing about ancient or European history or world history in general.
• Logic and philosophy.  Profoundly ignorant on these topics.

So, college kids, don't begrudge your general ed requirements and don't goof off when you take classes in art history, world and ancient history, classics, math, literature, logic and philosophy, and other social sciences.  You may want to become an architect or an engineer or a physician or a farmer, but too many people have never learned how to think critically, how to evaluate evidence, how to discover reliable knowledge and information, and how to avoid living their lives from a fountain of fantasy and ideology.  But, remember this:  You have a lifetime to learn, and you can make up deficits in your knowledge by launching forth at an early age on a lifetime quest for expanding your horizons, opening new windows and doors, learning to think and reason objectively, and have something inspiring to accomplish besides watching TV.

A Morning Walk on September 1 and Thoughts about September

I went on one of my few walks this summer on September 1.  I am extremely irritated to find that September is here already.  It seems like we spent most of our summer in doctors' and dentists' offices, hospitals, and waiting rooms while trying to resolve some annoying, but not serious, health issues.  Thus, we had little opportunity to go anywhere, missing the summer plays at Hale Theater and the summer theater at the Cedar City Shakespeare Festival in Cedar City and the summer musicals at Tuacahn in St. George.  I began taking my afternoon nap during Matlock reruns, having most Matlock episodes thoroughly memorized.  We even resorted to watching Hallmark Channel soaps, some of which were actually quite entertaining.  We survived a one-day family reunion, had several family visitors, and I actually was able to attend the Marriott School Finance Department's annual fall "retreat" steak fry to visit with old colleagues and meet new faculty.  My colleague that officed next door for 20 years was there, so we continued our 20-year debate over where the truth in economics existed, in his lamebrained version of economics, or in my enlightened Keynesian and sophisticated views.  For 20 years, I tried to illuminate and insult him daily, but I failed in ever either teaching him the truth or making him irritated, no matter how hard I tried.  We remain good friends despite all humorous contention.

My colleague from the finance department who calls me twice yearly to get book reading recommendations so he can buy books for his dad was there.  I learned to my amusement that he passes my lists on to other faculty members who ask him what Blood has been reading lately.  My student that we nurtured in our department for several years and then recommended highly for entry into a Ph.D. program was there, now being promoted to full professorship and continuing in an outstanding academic career.  I was thankful that I could attend the steak fry without being required to attend the entire week of required back-to-school meetings, an exercise that usually failed to inspire me with the intended wisdom needed to pursue another academic year.  I did have pangs of remorse about not being back in the classroom.  For 45 years, that was my life.  First day of school.  Dismiss all of the students from Idaho. "What did he say?"  "Does he mean it?"  Noone ever left, but at least I had their attention.  Another crop of students who sat paralyzed in their seats, having heard that beginning economics is one of the worst classes they will ever be required to take.  And then a few actually loved it, became economics majors, and calculated opportunity costs and government budgets for the rest of their enchanted lives.

But I have digressed from my morning walk.  Unfortunately, few wildflowers and weeds were available to photograph, having been cruelly hacked down by enterprising park mowers early in the summer.  But I did find a few things of interest and will post them.  Meanwhile, September remains a nostalgic month, a birthday month, a back-to-school month, a transition month, and a month in which to focus on just exactly where in blazes the first eight months of what was supposed to be a new and long and enjoyable year went to instead of perishing into a fog.

We Were the High School Annual Editors

 We three, Dolores, Elaine, and I, were the Powell High School Annual Editors, spending much of our senior year of school producing the best high school annual ever put together from PHS, 1949                                  

                                        

                                    50th high school reunion, 1999

                                       

                                    60th high school class reunion, 2009.  Thankfully, we three could all be there.

                                      

My Life in School and Why I Loved School So Much

I have been rereading Curtis Sittenfield's little gem of a book titled "Prep" (New York: Random House, 2005) which I bought for my wife on the strength of the book landing on lists for best books of the year and generating rave reviews.  She was not actually that impressed with the book.  I was duly impressed with the book and loved the story, even though some would say it is a feminine book because it tells the story of a midwestern girl at an exclusive eastern prep school.  As soon as I finish the book, I'll provide a more detailed review of it.

I was thinking about this book at 4:00 a.m. this morning while I was enduring the stuffy nose syndrome caused by my mean cardiologist, even though she swears, not quite literally, but almost, that her pills don't cause chronic stuffy nose, while other physicians disagree.  But I digress.  I decided that the reason that I love "Prep" is because I love most stories about school, teaching, learning, angst experienced by students, and anything to do with learning and education.  Then I acknowledged that the reason I love these stories is because I have always loved school.  I realized early on that having an affection for school was a weird affliction, since mostly what I heard going through school was how much so many students hated it.  But, for me, classrooms, teachers, books, libraries, writing, exams, and ideas became an early addiction that stayed with me all my life.

So, I have decided to write a long series of short posts about why I always loved school so much, and how I came to acquire this lifelong affection.  To be continued.