Whig Hill

Middle Tennessee

So I'm still at sister's house just outside Franklin, Tennessee. I'd like to show you pictures of the neat things I've seen, but I left my camera-to-computer cable at home, so it will have to wait. This disappoints me more than you because I found a jackpot gravestone from 1836 I'm dying for you to see. Anyhow...having a good time. Lizzie is having an even better time with all the outside, hiking, swimming, food, and presents.

My gift to you: Two blogs you probably already know.

Filboid Studge. This guy only posts maybe twice a year, but when he does, it's a happy occasion for sad reflection on the apparent decline of the ability to draw, and of course, to lament the good old days.

Little Hokum Rag. Artist Amy Crehoe's blog is just filled with all kinds of hip, old-timey, goodness.

procrastination

Ok, so the semester is almost over. I’ll procrastinate with this instead of finishing my final paper. If you have been peeking in on my Twitter feed, you know that I’ve been grading my students’ research papers and you know what a tragically hilarious (or hilariously tragic) process that has been. I’ve learned two lessons from this. First is that next semester we’ll be working on paper-writing skills including, but not limited to, how not to use the holy bible and an about.com page as your only sources. Second is that when you are handing back bad grades, do it at the end of class because if done at the beginning, then you are stuck for an hour with a bunch of pissed off and uncooperative undergrads. Wow. That was uncomfortable.

The Journal of American History has a new podcast. This is good. In it they interview one author about an article that has appeared in the Journal. This is good. Apparently they are doing it once per quarter—every three months. This is not good. One essential aspect of these 2.0 things is timeliness. And if I have to wait three months for a new twenty-minute interview, I’m just never going to get excited about it. They should do it at least, at least, monthly. (If they need filler, they can interview me about my newly developed revision of the Woodward thesis.) The BBC’s In Our Time podcast is fabulous, has complex original content, is the reason I have an iPod, and they do it every two weeks.

Let me tell you--this recession is hitting higher education pretty bad. Every day on the Chronicle's hiring blog is a new story about faculty cuts, pay cuts, hiring freezes. I saw two stories this morning before I even left the house about major colleges instituting hiring moratoriums. Great timing.

Speaking of timing, this book arrived in the mail today. Good thing break begins next week. Worth the price just for the blurbs on the back. (Oh, jeez, looks like Publishers Weekly didn't like it at all.)

And, finally: Andrew has discovered my epithet.

Well, the New Deal has been much in the news lately...

	Chatham County Line - Tennessee Valley
	Found at skreemr.com

So I was asked, based on my experience in museums, etc., to attend a presentation by the public history class at school on their project for this year, and offer feedback. It was fun and was a helpful reminder that I like museums and historic sites and public history even if I’m no longer doing that.

I was reminded of the actual distance between academic history and public history the other day when reading a release on an upcoming symposium. The language was just weird to me and I kept saying, why did they say it that way? That’s stupid. And bad. Then it occurred to me that it was perfectly fine language for public historians to use and I was judging it based on stuffy the academic standards I've become accustomed to. I wonder if doing this whole Ph.D. thing will ruin me for museums?

I’m becoming more aware that these two sides of history really don’t have much in common. Unfortunately, too many academics think they can do public history, and too many public historians think academics are authorities on exhibits and programs and whatnot. Academic advisory boards can be deadly. Speaking of which, I looked at the latest DCR newsletter and learned that production has begun on a six-hour historical documentary on North Carolina. The Secretary’s priority for her second term. Who knew? The advisory board for the project was shown, and, basically you are qualified to  be on the advisory team as an academic if you 1. are a man, 2. are white, 3. are approaching retirement, 4. have at least thirty years’ experience in the Department, and 5. have been on every other history committee the Department has ever had. What is wrong with this picture? This is deadly for reasons other than those alluded to above, but is a good reminder why I’m not working at DCR any more.