Thanksgiving

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. I spent it with some friends and had a great time, but we didn't observe a tradition I've come to enjoy the last few years. You see, I like it when we go around the table and everyone talks about something they have been thankful for in the last year. So, because I didn't get to do it on the actual day, and since I am the only one around this particular table at the moment, here is a partial list of the things I am thankful for.

1. Health. Really, if you don't have this, everything else doesn't matter all that much. I have had a good year, in general. I give thanks for decent health care, including the flu shot and whooping cough vaccine that helped me out. Also, I'm grateful to have a lifestyle that allows me to sleep a respectable amount of hours every night, eat food that's good for me (not all the time, though), and moderately exercise.

2. A Network of Supportive Family and Friends. From the time I was born, I was blessed with a family who supports me, no matter how kooky my choices may seem. As I have gotten older, I have had the luxury of surrounding myself with people who have a positive influence on me and who I enjoy spending time with. Also, in the last few years, I've gotten better at asking for and accepting help from the people who love me.

3. A Job. We all know it's crap out there now. It's getting better, sure, but it has been a load off my mind to have a job that not only pays the rent and bills, but that I actually enjoy doing.

4. Writing. So, after finishing my second novel a year ago, I've done absolutely nothing to get it out there. Still, I'm keeping at it. Over the summer, I wrote quite a bit of a new novel and I've been working on this academic book I have a contract(!) for. I still hold out hope for the day when I can teach a little less and write a little more. And when I have an agent (or the time to find one).

5. Conferences. One of my favorite ways to travel. I love visiting a new city for the first time because I'm attending a conference there. About a month ago, I got to go to Indianapolis for the AMS, and I know Indiana doesn't sound like Vegas, but I'd never been there before (and probably wouldn't have ended up there any other way), and I thought it was charmant!

6. Me Lunches. On days when I don't have classes to teach, sometimes I like to take myself out to lunch. People do this every day, I understand, but I've been packing my own lunch for years. I figure I deserve lunch out once in a while. And I like to indulge whatever whim I have. If that means driving a few extra miles to get to the particular restaurant where I want to eat, so be it.

7. Football. American and European. I've been enjoying most of USC's season (but Oy, Oregon), but there have been some heartbreakers too. I also loved the World Cup this summer. I really enjoy watching my teams play.

8. My New Apartment. I can walk to work. Need I say more? Also, there's just a zen-like peace that goes along with the place. I have no idea why. It's just instantly calming when I walk inside.

9. Boardwalk Empire. I just. I love this show. Everybody in it is excellent, and I really love that the characters talk like people did back then. Nucky called someone "Johnny on the spot" a couple of weeks ago. That rocks!

10. Crafts. I made Halloween lollipops this year and I hope to do the same for the December holidays. Also, I spent many hours today making my holiday cards. There is something very soothing about designing and creating something and then sharing it with people you love.

Too Much Stuff

When all of your belongings are in closets, tucked away on shelves, or in cabinets, it's hard to assess how much stuff you actually have. When you have to pack everything into boxes, however, you suddenly realize that you've been accumulating stuff without even realizing it. I moved about a month and a half ago. Once again, I was surprised at how many boxes were required to do the job. And I was actively trying to get rid of stuff, for many reasons. First, all of my previous moves in California were into successively bigger apartments, and as everyone knows, the more space you have, the more space you use. My latest move was a lateral one. The square footage of the old and new apartments ended up being about the same, although the rooms are different sizes. I needed to get rid of some furniture that just wouldn't work in the new place. Second, I started to question just what I needed to own, and what I could do without.

I thinned out my book collection and donated the music books to my school library. I gave the rest to Goodwill. I thinned out my CD collection, trading about 150 in at Amoeba. I recycled old magazines, and finally donated of the clothes I never wear anymore. It was such a great experience to feel that I was freeing myself of these possessions, but that they were perhaps going to help other people. (They also weren't going to end up in a landfill.) Maybe some young woman with a job interview will find that cute purple suit at Goodwill. Maybe some student at LACC will take one of those donated books out of the library and decide they want to study Music History. It could happen!

The most unexpected thing about doing all this donating was a shift in my own perspective about buying new things. There are a couple of things I've been buying used for years. If I'm buying a CD (and not downloading from iTunes), I go to Amoeba first. If I want to buy a book, I buy used from alibris and private sellers on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. But I'm trying not to buy books at all. I already have too many. Don't get me wrong, I love books. I love them so much, but that doesn't mean that I have to have a library full of books in my living room--we actually have libraries to keep books for us. Books are heavy and hard to move. And even thinning out my collection to just the books I think I need (for research and program notes) and my favorites, I still have 2 and a half big bookcases full! I also don't feel I need a physical CD of music unless it has special artwork or something unique.

I used to buy all of my electronics new, but when I needed to replace a camera, the internet made it easy to find a good used camera for a fraction I would have paid for a new one. But it's not so much that price is an issue, although it's wonderful to save money, it's the idea that I'm using something that's already out there. In my humble opinion, there's just too much stuff out there already. I have too much stuff, you probably have too much stuff. And for what? What do we need it all for?

I'm getting to the place where I can justify my ownership of the things I have. I need these books for research, for example. Or I keep only the clothes I wear frequently. But I think I still have too much. I know I'm going to move a few more times before I settle some place I'm going to stay. But also, even if I move into a big house ten years from now, will I really need to fill it with crap? Even if I live to be a hundred, someone's going to have to figure out what to do with my stuff after I die. I want that to be an easy job.

There are two more issues that I need to weigh in on. One is the idea that we're moving towards a Cloud-based information system. In a Cloud-based system, all of your information lives "on a cloud" that you can then access. All of your documents and pictures and music won't sit on your hard drive anymore or on paper in file cabinets. They'll be accessible from anywhere. I like this idea, but I'm wary about Cloud security, although I'm all for keeping digital versions of things rather than cluttering things up with paper versions. Less clutter is a wonderful thing.

Second, if I ever decide to have a kid, all bets are off. Kids need a lot of stuff. I can be positively austere, but I'm not going to limit a child to two bibs and three toys. As the kid grows up, we can donate the toys she doesn't play with (okay, she can keep some special favorites). We can give away the clothes that he has outgrown. Maybe I will raise a child who doesn't feel like she needs to own a lot of things. And when I die, she'll keep a few of my treasured possessions and give the rest away. The most important things I would want to leave a kid are good memories and good lessons from me. And maybe my Harry Potter books.

Jack of All Trades

Last week, I went to the national conference of the American Musicological Society. If you are a musicologist or a musicology grad student, the AMS national meeting is the place to be. I've been to about five or six of these things so far, both when I was a grad student and after I got a full time job. When I was a grad student, in the midst of figuring out my dissertation topics, I went to all different kinds of papers to see what other folks were researching. I thought about music and sociology, music and semiotics, and just about everything else that sounded even remotely interesting. As I was finishing up my degree, I went to AMS meetings to schmooze with people at schools where I applied for jobs. This was a very big deal. I chose my wardrobe with extreme care, wanting to seem professional, but also approachable. I went to all the parties and tried to meet all of the people whose names I had seen on book covers. I talked to people after their papers and asked questions, exchanged information, and sent follow-up emails. I was desperate to make connections. My grad school buddy and I tore through the University parties like two women on a mission, making it rain business cards in our wake.

AMS meetings, post-doctorate, post-job, and post-tenure are an entirely different affair. The stress is gone. I dressed nicely, of course, but I didn't worry if I looked like I was trying too hard. If a set of papers seemed interesting, I went. If I didn't care about the paper topics (because I've already chosen my research area and written my dissertation), I didn't go. I met some people at parties, but I could be so much more casual because I didn't have to meet them. In short, I moved to a different place in the hierarchy. I sat back a bit and watched the grad students jockey for position in the party clusters. I chatted with my former professors in a purely social way. They were happy to see that I'd gotten myself a job and tenure, and I was happy to see they were thriving as well. No awkward questions about how many interviews I'd snagged in the previous year, no wondering about what next year's crop of jobs would look like.

One afternoon, my grad school buddy--who I never get to see except at these meetings--was going to a study group meeting for Music and Philosophy. I was intrigued, so I went along. After listening to the discussion for a while, I knew that I wanted to stay in my own area of study rather than branching out into this realm. When the sign-up sheet for an internet discussion group came around, I passed it along instead of putting my email on it. Now, that might not seem like much to you, but to me, it was huge. And it was a testament to how far I had come. I didn't have to throw myself into this. I realized I already had a career, an area of expertise, and I could (and can) pick and choose how I want to spend my time.

As a grad student, the range of options to specialize in is so vast, it can be paralyzing. And besides choosing something you actually like to learn about, you also wonder if you're choosing an area that will be popular for years to come, or if it will fall out of favor with the general community. Most of us start out putting our eggs in many baskets, or betting on more than one horse, if you prefer horse racing metaphors. We make a big decision when we choose our dissertation topics because they define us, but only temporarily. The dissertation, daunting as it may seem, is just one research project in a career that will hopefully be full of them. It's so easy to get lost in the choosing and the schmoozing that it's hard to foresee a time when every choice and interaction won't be such a big damn deal.

It happened, though. It happened for me. I might one day go back on the job market, looking for a musicology job somewhere, but until that time, I remain one of the lucky ones. In horse racing terms again, since I have my degree, a job, and tenure, I feel like I won the Trifecta.