Week 4 - Irish

The title of this post might be a little misleading for any readers who actually know me that well. Ever since I was a little kid and my parents helped me put together punchouts of a leprechaun family (some of which still randomly pop up in my LEGOs at my parentals), I have been Irish in my heart. Green was always the best color, even though I mistakenly thought blue was my favorite for so long. My time in 4-H, wearing around four-leafed clovers and striving to make all things better only fed my desire and so it was natural that when choosing colleges, the green just felt "right". My drinking days began and so did an Irish accent that was unpracticed and rarely a true duplication of anything spoken on the Emerald Isle. But down in my heart, I had the Irish spirit, the incessant optimism and independence despite the best efforts of the world to beat me down. St. Patrick's Day, though poorly celebrated in its alleged country of origin, is my favorite holiday of the year, often celebrated for a solid month by myself while my friends know not to submit themselves to the madness - they either avoid me in March or arrive on my doorstep with a case of beer.

Just another day post-St. Patty's.

Just one of my Irish pilgrimage locations - Cliffs at Aran Islands.

Teaching the Irish how we celebrate their heritage.

Be that as it may, there is one week every year that I bear no good will towards the school over in South Bend. Again this past weekend they were epitome of heartbreakers when they stormed into East Lansing and demolished my boys. With the B1G conference looking so shabby these past couple of years and riddled with both petty and terrible scandals, ESPN deemed the Spartans the last hope to redeem the honor of the conference this year. Mission failed. Spartans pulled another choke from the que cards and let the Irish defense (never heard of them before) walk, run and push all over them. Our O-line looked like high school freshmen in a gym class dance lesson. Awkwardly looking the wrong way for reassurance from their friends all night, they let the QB get beat down like a drunk jerk thrown out at the local PT O'Mally's. We preach on Spartan toughness, but the only toughness exhibited by a Spartan Saturday night was me as I opted out of the comfort booze held in ready. Rough night, but hopefully the boys can bounce back.

Since I got home from the conference, I have been struggling incessantly to get caught up. Tomatoes on the ground in the garden, clean laundry stacked up on the dryer, pear wine must ready for secondary fermentation and a car door that won't open from the outside all top my to-do list, but so have class assignments and a county fair. Unfortunately, although class should not be important for me while at work (and I do my studying whilst at home rather than at work), class assignments take up time at home I would prefer to allocate to something more fun. Professors at school have yet to realize that with the semester system, homework does not need to be handed out with the same frequency as with the quarter system. Even worse, handwritten homework should not be a function of graduate studies. I can understand drawing diagrams, etc., but handwriting analysis of papers and research is a backwards waste of my time at this point. But I can't be a chooser, so I push on - this will all be over soon anyhow.

Our county fair results are now finally in. For a couple of years now, my wife and I have been involved in the fair as photographers in order to practice photography as an art and in order to serve the fair in their need for better publicity. Because of this, we also compete in the fair photography show. This is just one more method of finding stress relief outside of academics during my graduate school. Unfortunately, my wife's best photo yet was shorted due to a rule against correction of entries. We had not originally intended to enter a black and white photo for her but when we printed the photos found one that was especially good. We framed it in hopes of persuading a class change, but with no luck. However, next year we can re-enter in the correct class. Two photos of my 5 turned out to be relatively competitive (a couple of them I only printed for fun around home). More than anything, I like taking photos as my form of artistic expression. I see the world differently from others and enjoy being able to share my point of view. I'll share just a couple of photos from this year.

My class-winning photo from last year's fair.

This photo lost to the show-winner.

While out photographing, I ran into some visitors from California who were in town for the game. They are my example of great tourists for the day. Because they were already in town for the game, they looked around for other out-of-the-norm activities to participate in and visit while in a new location. This desire for adventure beyond the typical tourist traps is what led them to our little fair where I met them at a regional lumberjack show. The sun blazing and minimal action did nothing to dissuade their enthusiasm. My challenge to the readers is to embrace this same sense of adventure that may lie buried deep within you. Cheers until next week!