Murder Most Foul

I almost got to be a corpse. No, my final new thing for April was not a near death experience. My friend Karen and a few other talented women produced and acted in a two-act play today--at Karen's house! Here's the invitation; the corpse explanation is next:






Karen asked me a few weeks ago if I wanted to play the corpse (the job involved lying on the floor, and that would have stretched my acting abilities about to their limits), but I couldn't do it, and they decided to have an off-stage corpse anyway. Still, this whole play in your house event is definitely a new thing for me, and for Karen, who is an on-again off-again new thing campaigner herself.

The five actors did a fabulous job on this 1937 melodrama by S. Sylvan Simon, and it was thoroughly entertaining. A whole host of sins were represented in the short play: greed murder, and adultery chief among them. The play was really very funny, despite the seriousness of that list. I think the thing I'm most impressed by, though, is the idea itself: a few friends get together and put on a play for their other friends. Genius! Maybe it's time I hosted a salon or something. Today gave me some ideas for future new things. Thanks to the Belvedere Players for rounding out my month!

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Study Abroad Orientation

I met my study abroad kids in one group for the first time yesterday. They seem so wonderful. We started a private Facebook page for them to start to socialize on about three weeks back, so while yesterday was our first pre-trip orientation, they seemed to click a little bit already. One of them even brought donuts for the group! I think my study abroad experience is extensive enough now that I'm already anticipating the fact that by mid-June, we'll have really bonded. I anticipate it at the same time that it seems impossible. How will I get to know all 24 of them? Here's a shot of our British group and the Quebec group.


Here are my kids--only one of them is missing.


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Sibilant Sue

I've been noticing lately what people call me. I've had a load of nicknames in my life: Mouse Marie, Sybil, Sips, Arnold Ziffle (charming, huh?), Methuselah, Dorkus Coney Spout, Spout, Coney, Commie Sue, Bonnie, Sis, Sister, Dr. Seuss, Teach, Aunt Suey, Aunt Toilet. My younger sister hasn't called my by my given name in years, except when she calls me Aunt Sue in conversations with her kids. Lately, I've noticed how many people call me by my first and last name--and these are people I've known for ages: "Hey, Sue Sipple, how are you?" I know what it is: it's the curse of the alliterative name.

I don't dislike my name, but I've always hated the alliteration--that sibilance annoys me. When you say my name fast, the names blur into one word. Susable. Even I say it. I called a friend years ago and got her younger brother on the phone. She wasn't in, so I asked him to tell her that "Sue Sipple called." it took her days to call me back: the message told her to call Susabelle. I have several students who always call be by both names, colleagues who do it, and friends. It doesn't bother me: it kind of cracks me up. It feels like a nickname and a formality all at once. But it's not just my own name people do this with. I've also noticed that my hometown is nearly always referred to in this way: Erie, PA. In conversations with me, people often refer to my former home this way, as if they're trying to distinguish it from other, more well known Eries. More curiously, they speak the state abbreviation: P-A. Are there other states that people say that way? I don't think so. Is it the length of the word? Does it just take too long to say Pennsylvania? Who knows?

Nicknames are a curiosity. I'm not sure if they're terms of endearment or an effort to redefine a person or label them. The former, I think, but I'm not sure. Either way, I'm Susable from Erie, PA. I am what I am. I'm owning my sibilance.


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No More Bumps in the Road

Like every homeowner, I have a house wish-list. I long for a new kitchen, a renovated walk-in closet, a gas fireplace, and several new external doors. I need a new roof, some foundation work, and a new driveway. Almost all of these things are big ticket items, though, so they all just hang around on my list, waiting for some emergency or windfall to make them happen.

A couple of months ago, the city scoured my neighborhood, looking for broken or heaving sidewalks and driveway aprons. When they found them, they spray painted big Xs on them and sent the homeowners letters mandating that they be replaced. My letter told me that if the city replaced the five sidewalk damaged blocks and the apron, it would cost $1,400. The damage to most of these concrete slabs was minimal, by the way. The real problem--which the city was totally unconcerned with--is my driveway. It has been a hazard since I moved in in 1998, but I've lived with it. Tree roots from a tree that's been gone for some time heaved the driveway in ridiculous ways. Because my house was built in 1935, it has a snazzy 1935 driveway, complete with a lovely grass strip down the middle. Charming, but kind of a pain. Do I really have to mow my driveway? You can see a little of the driveway grass in the photo below. Well, thanks to the city's mandate, I'm making some changes around here.



My neighbor is a general contract who does a lot of concrete work. For just about the same amount of money as the city quoted me for the sidewalk and apron, he can do a long stretch of my heaving driveway and all the other work. He started it on Friday. Alone. He is one energetic guy!



Let's just say that those tree roots were a bigger problem than he anticipated. He used a chainsaw and an axe, and he finally removed an enormous piece of root from the driveway.



This is the root!


The old concrete is gone, but yesterday morning, the rain set in. Right now, there's a lake where my drive should be. Oh well. Eventually, this will be a new thing I'll really appreciate. Right now, it's a little muddy around here.



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To Catch a Thief

New thing for April: crime stopping! Here's the story. I ran into a former student in the hallway on Thursday, right near some study desks in the building where I teach. We chatted for a few minutes, and then I walked back down the hall. I glanced at the desk area as I passed, and noticed a guy packing up his stuff. He looked at me kind of intently, but I didn't think anything of it. I got to the top of the hallway and realized I needed to go back for something, and when I turned, the guy I had made eye contact with was walking toward me carrying some notebooks with an open laptop on top. He looked at me again and nodded his head in greeting, and then he turned towards the stairs. Right then, my former student--the one I had been chatting with--came running down the hall. "Did you see a guy with a laptop? he asked. I told him he went down the stairs, and then Steven, the student, ran and called back, "he just stole my computer."

This is where my inner super sleuth was born. Realizing that I'd never actually seen the criminal go down the stairs, I decided to scour the nearby classrooms for him. Suddenly, there he was, coming out of the restroom with the laptop sandwiched between the notebooks he was carrying. Without thinking about it for even a second, I walked straight up to him, grabbed the edge of the laptop, and, as I pulled it from him, said, "This isn't yours! You stole this!" I think he was so stunned that some thoroughly middle aged professor had caught him that he couldn't form words or even act. By that time, I had my hand on his arm. "We're going to security," I said.

It was right around then that I realized that this was a ridiculous situation. I couldn't actually drag him three floors down to the public safety office alone. I saw my colleagues, Debbie and Angel, chatting down the hall. I walked the kid over to them and told them I needed their help. Debbie stepped right up and took his other arm. At some point, we must have let go, because the next thing I knew, he was running down the hall toward a back staircase--and then Angel and a bystander student were running after him. By the time I found Steven and gave him his laptop, Angel and the student had chased the thief out through the soccer field to the woods where they lost him. But here's the best part. He dropped the notebooks he was carrying, and inside we found his name, his photo, and several documents summoning him to court for some other crime. The police arrived--along with a canine unit--and we turned everything over to them. Steven realized that the thief had his iPhone, too, so that was a shame. The police talked to him for awhile, and then to me, I had to write a statement and answer some questions, and then it was over. I found out later that the thief was arrested on felony theft charges.

I think my sleuthing days are over now, but I have to say, this was a real adrenalin-pumping new thing!

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National Poetry Month

Happy National Poetry Month! Here's a favorite of mine by Kenneth Patchen.

23rd Street Runs Into Heaven

You stand near the window as lights wink
On along the street. Somewhere a trolley, taking
Shopgirls and clerks home, clatters through
This before-supper Sabbath. An alley cat cries
to find the garbage cans sealed; newsboys
Begin their murder-into-pennies round.

We are shut in, secure for a little, safe until
Tomorrow. You slip your dress off, roll down
Your stockings, careful against runs. Naked now,
With soft light on soft flesh, you pause
For a moment; turn and face me —
Smile in a way that only women know
Who have lain long with their love
And are made more virginal.

Our supper is plain but we are very wonderful.


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