The Texas Times, Volume 29

Greetings All!

2022 has come and (almost) gone, and as I sit down to try to assemble a semi-entertaining missive, I'm struck primarily by how much I'm hurting for decent material. Paige and I spent some time in Vegas and Death Valley in January and 10 days in Maine in June, but the rest of the year seems simply to have vanished. Like they say, time flies when you're having fun old.

Kids

Reagan and Hunter still have the same software engineer gigs they had last year (knock on wood). They moved out of their respective apartments in March and are renting a house together in north Austin. Cheaper, a lot more room, and they get along well enough to make it work. Hadley continues to be a Good Neighbor for State Farm in College Station. She played rec softball and soccer this year and came up for a football and basketball game in November, which was terrific. Hollis is halfway through his second year at Texas A&M and has decided to major in Accounting. He'll be interning with Alvarez & Marsal (a global consulting firm) in Dallas this summer. We got the band back together for Thanksgiving in College Station, which was swell, and everybody will be up here for Christmas. WooHoo!

Us

Paige and I are still plugging along. My MAcc students were fun this fall, and my on-the-job-market PhD student placed well and close to home (Go 'Pokes). On the research front, I'll be starting a three-year term as the Senior Editor of the journal of the Auditing Section of the American Accounting Association in June. Those of you who don't know what that means can be (unjustifiably) impressed and those of you who do know what that means can chuckle and feel sorry for me. As for Paige, she got renewed for a second five-year term as Dean of the KU School of Business this year. I continue to lobby for a career change involving miniature horses or buffalo, and she continues to ignore me, but she's deadly cute all the while. Last week, we celebrated (and are continuing to celebrate) 33 years of uninterrupted marital bliss.

Lower Education, Part 1

Last week, Paige pointed me to an article indicating that the basic algebra requirement might be eliminated for all state universities in Kansas. The fact that 1/3 of undergraduates fail the class (which most people take as high school freshmen) has led some parties to conclude that it might be an unnecessary roadblock ... and that maybe individual departments / majors should be able to decide what (if any??) math should be required. Quantitative fields generally require some form of calculus. What might be the new requirement elsewhere? Number lines? Or maybe remedial counting (not beyond two digits, of course, so as to ensure success)? 

As an interesting counterpoint, I recently got a card from a MAcc student who had never made a B in her entire life until she made one in my class this semester. Among other things, she said that she thought it was "... only right to write this note to you after the semester I had. You taught me resilience, whether you meant to or not. I was constantly challenged in your course (in a good way) and after a few kicks to the ego I learned to adapt and continue." Hmmm, perhaps pushing people and helping them grow is a reasonable alternative to eliminating standards and distributing participation trophies (errr ... degrees)?

Lower Education, Part 2

For the past few years, I've suggested a list of words that I think should be prohibited either because they no longer have meaning or because they've just become annoying. I was going to do the same again this year, highlighting gems like "headwinds," "spaces," and "process" ... but instead I've decided to point you to the new list of prohibited words put together by the good folks at Stanford University. The main difference, of course, is that my list is good whereas their list is nonsensical.

The Stanford List is 12 pages (single-spaced) long and includes reasons for why the offending words should no longer be used. For example, one can no longer "master" something (presumably, master's degrees will become a thing of the past) because "historically, masters enslaved people." It also is not OK to use the phrase "beat a dead horse" because that "normalizes violence against animals." One should not use the word "blackballed" because it assigns negative connotations to the color black (despite the fact that the word originated in the 1700s when people cast "against" votes by placing a black ball in a ballot box), nor should one use the word "ballsy" because doing so attributes personality traits to anatomy. Using "trigger warning" is now also out of bounds (never mind that it was similar-thinking geniuses who developed the phrase in the first place) because the mere utterance of these words evidently can "cause stress about what is to follow." I am not making that up. 

Hey, instead of arbitrarily restructuring the English language every five seconds, how 'bout we all just put on our big boy panties ... sorry ... "big person panties" ... oh, wait ... not "big" either ... hmmm ... "mature??" ... no, that's probably age-ist ... sigh ... and apparently "panties," at least according to The Atlantic, is either sexualized or infantilized (choose your fighter, please) ... so ... maybe ... put on our person-having-reached-the-age-of-majority undergarm-- ... wait, what were we talking about?

Book Recommendations

As usual, I'll bypass all of the old stuff I read this year and make my recommendations from a list of authors who are a bit more recent. First, after reading a couple things for the first time and revisiting a few other things, I'm firmer than ever in my conviction that Neil Gaiman is the best author from the past 50 years ... yes, including Cormac McCarthy (although it's a photo-finish). If you're unfamiliar with Mr. Gaiman's work, you might begin with shorter pieces like Coraline (no, it's not really a children's book) and The Ocean at the End of the Lane, but I could also see jumping straight to Neverwhere (which I have recommended before) or American Gods. You can't go wrong, regardless. Second, you should consider The Cartographers, by Peng Shepherd. It's a terrific example of how a compelling story can compensate for writing that is sometimes clumsy. Finally, I'll recommend a newish translation of the Poetic Edda (Old Norse narrative poems) by Jackson Crawford - a PhD cowboy formerly at the University of Colorado (now freelancing) who has a YouTube channel devoted to All Things Old Norse. If you're into that kind of thing at all, you should give him a look-see.

Music Recommendations

In the music department, I have three noteworthy discoveries from 2022. First, Beach Bunny manages to channel (periodically) a late 80s college band vibe that I really like. Here is a representative example. The other two artists I'll recommend are, oddly enough, both from Iceland. Eydis Evensen in a pianist / crafter of haunting melodies, while Laufey is a jazz vocalist / multi-instrumentalist (piano / cello / guitar / who knows what else?) in her early 20s who sounds like she has been doing things for a whole lot longer. You can see them in action here and here, respectively. Laufey's clip is short and sort of random, but gives you a bare bones idea of what she's capable of. She recently released an album with full orchestra and such that you definitely should check out (Everything I Know About Love), and if you would like a little of her very own special Christmas cheer you can click here. Go ahead. If you have any taste at all, you will not be disappointed.

Video Recommendations

Longtime readers know that pretty much the only things we watch are foreign mysteries. With that as the backdrop, I heartily recommend Astrid, Dalgliesh, Raven, The Ipcress File, A Murder of Crows, and Sherwood. Not all of these shows were produced this year, but that's when we found them. Outside the mystery set is the new (as opposed to 1970s) production of All Creatures Great and Small, which is about as wholesome as you can get.

Random Discoveries

Finally, here are some random, yet noteworthy, discoveries from 2022.

Magazine: New Criterion 
Produce: Cosmic Crisp (apples)
Men's shoes: Crockett & Jones
Dresses: Nora Gardner
Cookie recipe: Chocolate Chip Oatmeal
Coffee beans: Medici Roasting
Bible translation: English Standard (coming from a longtime KJV fan)
Watch straps: Wolbrook (rubber) and Bas & Lokes (leather)
Meat: Wild Idea Buffalo (ground and links are great; steaks are spotty)
KC hotel: The Inn at Meadowbrook

Closing Christmas Cheer

A couple weeks ago, students were asking why I didn't have a photo ornament on their tree in the MAcc lounge. I told them it was because I'm not cool enough to have an office in the suite with the people who actually run the MAcc program (and who do have ornaments on the tree). They said I should make a star and hang it myself, so ...

It doesn't dance in the night or have a tail as big as a kite, but it was good for a few laughs.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and God Bless!

Mike and Paige
mw0705@gmail.com
lpaigefields@gmail.com
1118 Brynwood Court
Lawrence, KS 66049

Maine

Despite not knowing much about Maine, I've always wanted to go there. I read Thoreau's The Maine Woods when I was in college, and I know the state is famous for moose, lobster, and lighthouses, but that's about where it ends. So ... when I was bouncing potential summer vacation spots off of Paige back in April, I was happy when Maine found its way to the top of the pile.

Rather than give a blow-by-blow description of what we did during our 10-day visit, I'm just going to highlight a few things. To begin, I'll say that Maine is a study in contrasts: geographic (or topographic, perhaps) contrasts and people contrasts. An awful lot of the western and northern third of the state - some of which we visited and most of which we did not - is nothing but dense woods, various bodies of water, and gravel or dirt logging roads (with zero cell service). These areas are heavily forested, at times suffocatingly so. As Thoreau notes, "What is most striking in the Maine wilderness is the continuousness of the forest, with fewer open intervals or glades than you imagined. Except for the few burnt-lands, the narrow intervals on the rivers, the bare tops of the high mountains, and the lakes and streams, the forest is uninterrupted." In that regard, what was true of the region northwest of Bangor in 1846 remains largely true in 2022. 

Meanwhile, the coastal areas are pretty much what you might expect. Except they aren't. There's virtually no sand, the beaches are rocky and rugged, and a good bit of the afore-mentioned dense vegetation makes its way all the way to the cliffs that top the shoreline. There are also, conservatively, 12 million islands of various shapes and sizes off the coast, which would explain why Maine has 65 lighthouses. 

With respect to people contrasts, the state appears to be roughly evenly split between free-range, organic, recycled artisanal light bulb buyers and "Don't Tread On Me." I'm sure there is middle ground somewhere, but I didn't see it.

The western and northern part of the state, in addition to being as green as green can possibly be, are loaded with moose. The catch, though, is that because there is So. Much. Country, one has to pick one's spots, be diligent, and be lucky in order to catch glimpses of them. In moose-heavy country, we probably spent 15 hours driving around in likely spots (dawn and dusk, obviously) and 10 hours hiking in likely spots, and saw a total of six moose. What I can tell you is that the roads around Rangeley, Stratton, and Kokodjo are good spots, as are boggy areas beside Department of Transportation facilities (presumably due to winter salt runoff).

As much as I loved the remoteness of central and western Maine, I've gotta say that the northeast coast is my favorite area. We spent two nights in Lubec, which is the easternmost point in the United States, and I definitely can see returning to that area in the future. There are loads of recreational and sightseeing opportunities and very few people. Particularly noteworthy areas are Quoddy State Park, Hamilton Cove, Boot Head Preserve, Western Head Preserve, and the Cutler Coast Public Reserve Land in general ... but if you just check a map of the northeast coast, you'll see that all sorts of things pop up.

If, on the other hand, you want your recreation to be a bit more civilized and you'd appreciate more opportunities for good restaurants, you could target Bar Harbor. Bar Harbor is an upscale tourist town (I'm sure residents would resent that characterization, but whatever) adjacent to Acadia National Park. My main observation about Acadia is that it probably is THE national park you should visit if you're terrified of being alone. I specifically planned our trip so we would be at the park mid-week, yet it still felt like Grand Central Station. As a point of comparison, Acadia gets considerably more visitors than Glacier National Park (our favorite in the U.S. Park system) and is 5% as large. I haven't ever understood enjoying (???) nature alongside throngs of strangers, but I certainly am glad that most people are content to leave other places for the rest of us. Again, if you would rather have scenery and outdoor adventures that are every bit as good - arguably better - but a lot less hectic, just continue northeast up the coast for 75 miles or so and you'll basically have things to yourself.

One sidebar regarding Acadia ... While most of the decent hikes in the park won't afford you anything remotely resembling solitude, the Dorr Mountain Trail is a notable exception. There are many ways to reach the summit, but the route I chose is a 3.5 mile loop that climbs (and then descends) around 1200 feet. The South path, which runs around 2.3 miles to the top, is more gradual, and the North path, which includes the aptly named Ladder Trail, features the same vertical distance crammed into about 1.2 miles. Most of the North path involves granite steps carved or placed into the mountain and going dead straight up. It seriously feels like you're with Sam, Frodo, and Gollum as they're making their way into Mordor via the back stairs to Cirith Ungol. I've included a representative picture below, but because it's 2-D you can't really get a feel for it. At times it is absolutely comical. In three different spots, there are metal ladders bolted into the face of the rock where steps were a no-go (again, see below). I point all of this out to indicate that of the trails I researched that looked to have decent payoff, this is the only one that seemed like it would be tolerably unpeopled. I saw zero people on the way up, 3 people on the summit, and 8-9 people on my way down. Paige wanted me to clarify that she most emphatically did NOT make this trek, so consider yourself enlightened there.

Another sidebar regarding Acadia ... Many people who come to Bar Harbor book short cruises in the hopes of seeing things like puffins and seals. The boats that leave Bar Harbor are big. Meanwhile, if you drive an hour northeast of Bar Harbor, you can book with Acadia Puffin Cruise, which is a family operation with a single boat that holds around 15 people. Because the boat is small, it's able to get quite close to the places where puffins and seals congregate. The main island this outfit visits is Petit Manan, which is about a 30-minute ride out to sea. Our experience was terrific.

We finished off the trip with half a day in Portland. That's half a day more than I would recommend spending in Portland (unless you're into congestion and free-range, organic, recycled artisanal light bulbs), but the Portland Head Light - Maine's oldest lighthouse, established in 1791 - is only about 25 minutes from the airport.

To close things out, I'll make a few recommendations. Every accommodation and pub / restaurant we visited gets a grade of B or better, but these are the A grades.

Lodging

• Maple Hill Farm Inn, near Augusta - 100+ year-old house on 130+ acres, also serving as the poster child for why small inn owners should not build their own websites.
  
• Walden Farm, near Greenville - Upstairs at a family farm close to good moose areas.
  
• Highbrook Motel, Bar Harbor - Looks like a 1950s motor lodge and basically is, but with rave reviews, great location, family-operated, super-quiet, maybe the cleanest place we've ever stayed.
  
• West Quoddy Station, Lubec - Very cool use of an old, abandoned Coast Guard rescue station.

Food

• Water Street Tavern, Lubec
  
• Havana, Bar Harbor
  
• West Street Cafe, Bar Harbor (do NOT miss the crab cakes and stuffed haddock)
  
• Coplin Dinner House, Stratton

Oh ... and one final point that will be critical if you're planning a Maine-land driving adventure: budget a lot more time than you ordinarily would. Especially in the central and western parts of the state, getting from Point A to Point B is sort of hilarious. It's not obvious when you take a first glance at your route, but before you know it you're on narrow, semi-maintained (charitably) roads winding all over the place as you navigate toward your destination. That being said, you'll see some gorgeous country in these areas. You'll also be exposed to some stellar rural Maine living (see below, with blue toilet by mailbox but missing the fence made of rusty bicycles). Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

That's all for now. I'm trying to talk Paige into going to Savannah for a Flannery O'Connor pilgrimage in a few weeks, but she's claiming to be too busy at the moment. If I can change her mind, you might hear from me again this summer. If not, I'll see you around Christmas.

Mike