Home Again, Home Again

Sincere apologies to those of you who have been sick with worry about the fate of Moose and the Thinking Woman, who, when last heard from, were still 597 miles from home and in rather frightening proximity to a field of corn. Rest assured they made it safely back to Roxie's World Tuesday evening as scheduled. TW is settling in well, as you can see from the photo below. I think I am going to like having a companion statue. It's fun to hang out with someone whose mobility is even more limited than my own.

Meanwhile, Moose is trying to negotiate a soft landing back in the real world, which seems to have gone bat-$hit crazy in her absence. (That is a professional comment, not a personal one. We will have more to say on the subject soon, if we can figure out a diplomatic way to write about the intensifying crisis of higher ed right here in our own ridiculously large back yard. Meantime, read this, this, and this. Go, students!)

Advice to travelers from Moose on the Loose now Back on the Leash: The world to which you return will not be precisely the one you left. Do not be deceived by appearances. Remember that similarity is not sameness. Time has passed -- changed even -- and contents may have shifted in transit.

Memo to Texas from Moose on the Loose now Back on the Leash: We regret to inform you that the ginormous roadside cross conveniently located on the edge of I40 eastbound on the outskirts of Amarillo, TX (top photo below) is not, contrary to my earlier impression, the most spectacularly ginormous roadside cross on the face of dog's earth. A second view and evidence obtained from my iPhone camera indicates that that honor goes to the remote kingdom of Illinois, which has a super spectacularly ginormous cross (bottom photo below) looming over I70 eastbound on the outskirts of, um, nowhere, dwarfing trees and even the billboard for Denny's. Sorry, Texas, but you have been outdone in the category of Truly Ridiculous Public Displays of Affection (Jesus Division). Better luck next time!



Memo to Drivers from the Division of Highway Safety, RW Enterprises, LLC: Roxie's World does NOT condone the taking of photographs by drivers operating vehicles at high speeds -- unless, of course, the driver is alone and unwilling to stop the vehicle, and the photo is the only way to secure evidence necessary to make a snarky point about unseemly spectacles of religiosity in American culture. Some things are, you know, worth dying for.

All the bitches are back in the pack, kids, and all is right in Roxie's World. A happy weekend to you and yours.

In the Land of the Moosians

Moose and the Thinking Woman are now just 597 miles from Roxie's World! That's right, kids. They arrived in Moose's home state at around 3 this afternoon after two and a half long days on the road. TW has been a fine traveling companion -- quiet but congenial, curious about the changing surroundings (Geez, she was heard to mutter at one point, Missouri is really tacky!), able to go for hundreds of miles without a potty break.

By dinner time tomorrow, we're hoping all the old and new bitches of Roxie's World will be together, raising paws and glasses in celebration and snuggling and hugging and getting bronze heads and fuzzy tummies rubbed.

Thanks for all your good thoughts for our happy wanderers. We'll be back to regular blogalicious programming soon. Meantime, may your skies be blue and your highways litter-free. Safe home to each and all.

(Photo Credits: Moose on the Loose, End of No Place, IN, 11/2/09)

Road Ready

Or, Thinking Woman Fastens Her Seatbelt

Not that she's expecting a bumpy ride or anything, but it is her first big highway adventure, so the Thinking Woman is all buckled up and ready to go. Dog will be Moose's co-pilot, of course, but TW will be in the passenger seat as the two of them head east bright and early tomorrow morning. Destination: Roxie's World! I know, people -- Can you stand the excitement? Will we recognize Moose, after her seven weeks of solitude, slow reading, hiking, hot tubbing, and generally clean living? Will she and Goose know how to talk to each other without staring at their computers and marveling at the miracle of Skype? Stay tuned, folks, as Moose on the Loose once again becomes Moose on the Leash!

Moose and TW will be spending All Hallows Eve in a highway hotel somewhere between there and here, so here's a little bit of Halloween eye candy, brought to you by an artistically inclined Niece of the Moosians (Carolina branch), who is more skilled with a knife than Sweeney Todd or Jack the Ripper:

Happy Halloween to each and all. I wonder if Goose will dress me up in my fabulous wizard costume, even though I'm no longer able to run to the door to greet the children who come begging for treats. Sigh. Growing old sucks, doesn't it?

Oh, well. Here's a little song to help guide Moose and her little bronze friend right back home where they belong. Yep, you guessed it, aging children: "Homeward Bound." Peace out. And don't worry, Moose. We'll leave the light on for you.



Postscript from Moose to the Friends Who Offered Her the Keys to the Kingdom: Neither words nor fine wine nor haute cuisine nor the most exquisite eye candy can ever express how grateful I am to the two of you, princes among women, for your extraordinary generosity in affording me this time in such a magnificent place for study, reflection, play, and exploration. I am forever in your debt. PAWS UP to you both, and in this rare case, we will even raise a cat paw or three to honor your feline inclinations. Many thanks and much love.

Questions of Travel

Or, Thinking Woman Plays in the Snow Rather Than Worrying About the Weather

(With apologies to Elizabeth Bishop)

Yes, readers, she bought her.

(Photo Credit: Moose on the Loose, undisclosed location, 10/28/09)

Moose is thinking of the long trip home. She is not worrying about it, because worrying is something she is trying to do less of after six intoxicating weeks in the kingdom of mellow. If she wanted to worry about something right now, she might worry about Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton being in Pakistan when all hell is breaking loose in that part of the world. She might worry about the fact that people seem surprised that Senator Joe Lieberman is being a self-righteous, self-serving gas bag about the "public option," when he has been precisely that on practically every issue of importance since, um, let's see, he decided to play nice in a vice-presidential debate against Darth Cheney back in the fall, 2000 campaign. She might worry about the fact that the left, rather than focusing seriously on any of these serious issues, is getting its knickers in a wad over the president playing basketball with non-lady persons -- while simultaneously launching a no-holds-barred misogynistic attack on former Governor Sarah Palin. (Blog pal Historiann has a good discussion of the latter issue here.)

(Photo Credit: Moose on the Loose, here, 10/25/09)

But she is not worrying about those things. Much. Instead, she is savoring her last moments in the kingdom of mellow and happily anticipating a joyous reunion with the denizens of Roxie's World. She is sorting and cleaning and folding and packing and making her way through the last hundred pages of a book that is knocking her socks off. (More on that subject later, I imagine.) She has concluded that, yes, we ought to "dream our dreams / and have them, too," to the extent that it is possible. And wherever we go, we should take snapshots, lots and lots of snapshots, because later, when we are back at home, we can think of here, wherever that may be, and know that some little part of it is right there with us, as sharp and clear as a field of snow or mica glittering like diamonds beneath a desert sun.

Take pictures, darlings, lots and lots of pictures. And pass them on. Peace out.


(Photo Credits: Moose on the Loose, near here, 10/26/09)

Morning Has Broken

Because somehow or another it has turned out to be Cat Stevens Week around here. (I don't know why, people. It's not as if we plan this stuff. Things just have a way of snowballing.)

And because for some strange reason my typist bolted awake this morning before 7 Mountain time, grabbed her camera, and ran outside in her nightgown before the coffee was even done brewing. Lucky for you, eh?

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning . . . .



And because you are such incredibly good girls and boys, here is a bonus shot of last night's sunset, which Moose is pleased to pass along because she thinks her sky photos are getting closer to that "Blazing in gold and quenching in Purple" thing she's been trying to capture for the past six weeks:


Peace out, darlings. May your day be full of elation, wherever on dog's sweet earth you happen to be.

(Photo Credits: Moose on the Loose, undisclosed location, 10/24 and 10/23/09.)

(Re)Thinking Woman

Moose will hit the road to begin wending her way back to Roxie's World one week from tomorrow. How happy are we about that here at the home office? Let's just say the reaction is a little something along these lines:



That means, of course, that it's time for Moose to get serious about, um, souvenir-shopping. She found a picture online of the sculpture she came across last weekend while touring artists' studios in a little town south of her undisclosed location. We're putting the photo in without attribution or a link because we have a question about the sculpture that we'd like to put to you, our loyal, sophisticated, and unflinchingly honest readers, but we wouldn't want the artist to stumble across it and think we were being irreverent or disrespectful of her work, which we greatly admire. We are already concerned that we alienated the entire state of Illinois with our post the other day on the purge of administrators tainted by the big admissions brouhaha at the state's flagship university, so we want to tread lightly in order to avoiding offending the great Southwest. It's a big country, people, and we are desperate for readers. We don't want to pi$$ everybody off.

Anyway, here's the photo:


And here is the question:

In your opinion, does she look like "Woman Thinking" -- or, um, well, frankly speaking, and we're terribly sorry to put this so crudely, but do you think she might be more accurately described as "Woman Working Up a Poop?"

Now, mind you, the latter would not necessarily be an argument against Moose's purchasing her and bringing her home to Roxie's World. Indeed, some dear friends who have already been privately consulted on this important matter have suggested she would fit perfectly in one of the, um, salles de bain, as a kind of inspirational fetish, you know? Moose is still quite taken with her and was especially fond of the way she felt in her hands. Of the many lovely pieces on display in the studio, this was the one Moose felt compelled -- after asking permission, of course -- to pick up, to hold, to touch, to rub. To her, somehow, she wasn't so much an object as an invitation. Perhaps that is why the Thinking Woman -- whatever she might be thinking about -- keeps returning to Moose's thoughts. Especially now that the heater here at home has been fixed for a reasonable price.

So, weigh in, all ye connoisseurs of art and scatological jokes. What would you call this pretty hunk of bronze, and do you think Moose should bring her back to Roxie's World? The clock is ticking, darlings, so answer soon. Art is timeless, but sooner or later a girl's got to answer the call of the road home.

Clean Sweep at U of Illinois?

It all started with the mascot, of course, who was booted out of Urbane-Champagne two years ago less for being racially offensive than for having been the cause of NCAA sanctions against hosting postseason sports events at the great big school on the edge of the prairie. There is no evidence so far that the mascot was in any way involved in the admissions scandal that has now engulfed the entire upper level of the UIUC administration as well as the university's board of trustees, but we're taking a wait-and-see position on whether poor old mothballed Chief Illiniwek will eventually be sucked into the maelstrom of this Category I storm. This is Illinois, after all -- Land of Blago and Burris and Ryan and Rosti.

We pause at this point to express our sympathies to our loyal band of Illinois lurkers, all of whom are fine, upstanding individuals whom, we wish to emphasize, have nothing whatsoever to do with admissions. We don't make the news, kids. We just snark it. Don't take it personal.

Anyway, with word yesterday that UIUC Chancellor (and former QTU dean) Richard Herman is stepping down (but staying on campus as a well-compensated "special assistant" to the interim president -- sweet!), the purge of administrators associated with what the Chicago Tribune describes as "a shadow admissions system that allowed subpar but well-connected students to get into the state's premier public school" appears to be complete. Illinois' President, B. Joseph White, resigned last month, and six members of the board of trustees have been replaced in the wake of the scandal. Former UIUC Provost Linda Katehi left Shampoo-Banana this past spring to become chancellor at UC Davis, but a faint whiff of the scandal accompanied her to the Left Coast, prompting UC system funeral director Mark Yudof to issue a statement expressing full confidence in the new hire in June. Hmmm. As we have said before, with friends like Yudof, higher ed needs no enemies.

Herman seems to have been the architect of the admissions system, known internally as Category I. According to the Trib, the end run began when Herman was provost and continued through his tenure as chancellor, with him personally overruling admissions staff in order "to admit students connected to university trustees, lawmakers, and other powerful people." Tricky Dick had his hands in every layer of the admissions cake, as more than 800 undergraduates received special consideration under the program but dozens of grad school applicants and a number of law school aspirants also benefited more from their connections than from their test scores. Herman even conspired with then-Gov. Blago and then-trustee Lawrence Eppley to guarantee jobs for 5 subpar graduates of the law school (who had been admitted over the dean's objections) in an effort to protect the school's ranking.

And there it is, comrades: That stench you smell is the odor arising from the ugly stew/poo of public institutions desperate to ingratiate themselves to the parsimonious keepers of the purse strings while battling to stay competitive in the morally bankrupt yet all-important game of rankings, ranking, rankings. With or without a series of incriminating e-mails, we are all more or less stuck in this same hard, stinky place. Today, as the denizens of Urbana-Champaign raise their noses in the air hoping to catch the sweet smell of a refreshing new breeze blowing across the prairie, the rest of us in public higher ed should have the guts to take a good, long sniff of our own campuses and see what's brewing in the pressure cooker. It's easy to stand in solidarity with our besieged colleagues on the West Coast and declare that, "We are all Californians." It's more difficult but just as necessary to take a look in the mirror and acknowledge that in many painful respects we are all Illini as well.

Pick up your brooms and start sweeping, kids. Even a dog can't stand the smell in this place. Peace out.