so as i graded big piles of research papers; sixteen gone now, down to a pile of finals, i kept checking in on #iranelection, and finally wrote about it, for what it's worth. it's 100 degrees in the shade here; it rained a bit today, but you could hear the sizzle and see the steam rise from the grocery store parking lot; the rain didn't even cool anything off. it was still sauna, still sizzling.

It's a kind of guilty pleasure to sneak a peak at fuzzy youtubes of demonstrators throwing rocks in the streets of tehran, when one still has such a pile of grading, that one has to practically apologize to each class for being so far behind. yet, when the world is brought to your doorstep, who can not at least glance? i have no idea what is really going on over there; all i can assure you is that here, it's a sizzling parking lot; classes that go on with too much class time, too little grading time; and a price to be paid every time one walks out the door, the heat hits you like a blast furnace. we're considering getting another puppy, so we've been investigating the puppy situation, but in my mind i'm imagining a world that looks like l.a. only everything is in farsi, and people are good & mad. i know; we had two elections stolen ourselves. and it didn't quite matter that the government had lost its legitimacy; an arrogant government doesn't care about that. do i have any right to judge? probably not. i should have thrown a rock or two when they stole my native state, ohio. but i'm actually kind of a wimp; i don't throw stuff, i just talk about it. the images, though, stick in my mind. the way the people can take pictures, upload them, and share among themselves, whether "they" approve or not...is this a new world? or what?

was hoping to do some writing tonight; maybe some stories are coming. i'm not though. i'm thoroughly exhausted; i've done massive grading, and test-writing. wrote a test about schools going to e-textbooks; i'm curious, as usual, what my students will say and how they'll say it. it'll make my day, tomorrow, as i teach a last class, make one more final, and do mountains of work that has piled up on me over the last week or so.

sunday, father's day; i'm playing fiddle at a winery, and it's shaded, but it's still out there in the ninety-something intense heat that has blanketed the area. my father's day was good; i had lots of homemade cards and gifts; a family dinner; even some time, by myself practically, at a winery. a trip to the country, a moment or two to reflect. what else could one want, except maybe a swim. and i'm trying for that soon, any day now. the pool has opened again; it should be possible. but at this gig, my head swims; it's a little too warm. it's the solstice; it's nude hiking day; it's father's day, yet to me, it's just fiddle-in-the-winery day; just play, and let the chips land where they may, i guess.

in the meantime, bed. i'm exhausted. the piles have got to me; i'm washed out for now. something intelligent to say about twitter; maybe i'll find it, maybe not. everyone seems to have something to say about it; but, with my limited time, maybe i'm going in the wrong direction. wracked by self-doubt, occasionally. but only occasionally; the rest of the time, i'm right here, at #iranelection, at least for the moment. chou