As noted in -273 , the article has appeared here

This just in: sources say the CS team beat the opposition 21 to 0 last night, with DOC group members turning in a strong performance. Steve (Slugger) Donahue hit multiple home runs, including the final at-bat that clinched the victory according to the "20 run advantage" rule. Congratulations!

Last night, CS students and faculty played softball against a team from the Medical School. While I wait eagerly to learn the outcome of the game, I thought it might be a good idea to provide incentives for the upcoming games, should it be the case that we continue to play.

So in professional sports, players are offered signing bonuses and perks to lure them to the roster and to encourage them to play well. I think we CS faculty should do the same. Here's a possible formula, with bonuses accumulating down the list.

• Base hit: We drop your lowest quiz score (we do this anyway usually, but you don't have to know that)
  
• Double: One question dropped from a midterm exam
  
• Triple: Midterm exam conveniently lost by professor, "A" given.
  
• Home run: Seat of your choice in lecture hall, appropriately decorated with team logos. Your choice of theme song as you enter the lecture hall.
  

• Strike out: Your homework graded by strictest TA on record.
  
• Drops an easy pop fly catch: Your grade for 241 inconveniently lost, must retake course.
  
• Bad throw to first base: Persian foreign language requirement imposed; study-abroad encouraged.
  

Today's issue of Student Life is supposed to feature an article on blogs, most notably the -273 community.

The interview was conducted by one of the students I see at dinner every Wednesday from Liggett 3, Michael Parks. So here's a blog post about a Student Life article about blog posts. How's that for recursion?

In the past 48 hours, three people I've not seen for a long time reestablished contact with me. This occured by phone, by email, and in person. First, Bjorn Loftis, former grad student now working at SBC, was on campus and came by to say hello. Next, Kathy Headley sent me email. Kathy is a friend of mine from Rice (my res college Will Rice College to be exact), and I don't think we've talked since graduation. She came across my email address on the WRC alumni web page. Finally, Steve Vlcan called from DC. Steve was in my first batch of advisees, before I perfected the perfect balance of goodies to give out at advising time.

When I was at IBM and living in New York, I observed that we should not get in the habit of giving going-away parties, because going-away parties will only encourage going-away behavior. Instead, those who go away should be shunned but upon return they can have a grand coming-back party, to encourage coming-back behavior.

So, in honor of the trio that made contact with me this week, come by my office for a special chocolate treat (OK, it's the usual stuff, but I'll offer a 2 for 1 special).

[no oatmeal cream pies, this offer not to be combined with any other offer, 102 students are especially encouraged to stop by]

OK, I'm a fourth-generation Texan, but I can't figure out why everybody they show on TV who's involved in Operation Iraqi Freedom has a southern accent. From Tommy Franks on down, they all drawl.

I can't help but think of Dr. Strangelove with that General, was it Buck Sturgeons? If ACM wants to do that as an ACM movie, I'll contribute the DVD for the evening.

One of my hobbies is playing classical pipe organ, and because of that I get to substitute around town from time to time. One place I really like to sub is St Peter's Episopal Church, at the corner of Warson and Ladue. They have an amazing music program---one of the best choirs in the city. Bill Aitken is their organist, also one of the finest in the city; he is also the organist at my temple.

He has asked me to sub there twice before, and they had an electropneumatic Moeller organ, which has since been replaced with a terrific instrument by Mander, described here.

So today I played the service, and it was the first time I've really played on the instrument (I went in briefly on Friday just to see what it was like). The instrument is a "tracker" instrument, which means that the keys are mechanically connected to the device that lets air into the pipes. When you play a tracker, you can feel the onset of the air as it enters the pipes; also, the more pipes that are enabled (stops that are pulled), the heavier the action. You feel much more "at one" with such an instrument than you do playing an electropneumatic instrument, where you basically tell an electric circuit to allow air into the pipe.

I think the next best thing to playing the organ today was just sitting in proximity of the choir as they sang. This is one of the best choral groups assembled in St Louis. The are a "true tone" choir that blends like nothing you have ever heard.

I encourage all within eyeshot of this column to make a trip to St Peter's sometime to hear Bill Aitken play (he's orders of magnitude better than I am), and to hear the choir. Even if you're not Episcopal (for I am not), you are guaranteed a religious experience there. Their service is usually at 10:30 AM on Sundays. They also have evening concerts on Sundays, check their web site referenced above.

Way back when I was a mere bachelor, whooping it up in Westchester County, I would go to friends' houses for dinner and always bring something. I would bring something because I liked to try to make weird but tasty food and because I like to encourage thiat kind of activity.

After Betsy joined me in New York, we continued going to friends' houses for dinner from time to time, and the friend would always assume I had made the dish. This annoyed Betsy for several reasons, not the least of which was that sometimes she made the food we brought.

Tonight we go to Professor Aaron Stump's house for dinner, and I'm looking forward to renewing the tradition of bringing food. The food comes from our house, but I'm curious whom Aaron will guess was the chef.

I wonder if this has the makings of a new reality show---some kind of strange variation of Iron Chef.

Morimoto makes a French dish and the Iron Chefs show up at somebody's house (mine would be OK), and everybody thinks Sakai made the food.

Great rejoicing was heard within a block of Enterprise Rental today as I proudly took possession of my RAV4. It has all the new parts it deserves, and the body shop treated it to a shampoo.

Don't you think that if there is shampoo, there ought to be some realpoo too?

I am glad to have the car back, and I predict the freshly shampooed schnauzer smell will soon be forced to give way to less odious odors.

I had hoped to be back in the driver's seat of my renovated RAV4 by now, but the body shop wants to keep it a while longer, under observation, to see if any of its previous symptoms reoccur.

Apparently, the RAV4 did not go down without a fight. Borrowing from a Stephen King novel (and the very bad movie made from that novel), the guy working on my car "accidentally" drove a drill bit into his hand. He has been unable to return to work, and so my RAV4 has been up on a lift all this time, parts strewn about the body shop, waiting for the next person to try to fix it up. I guess nobody was brave enough until late this past week, and when the new person took over the job (not without trepidation I'm sure), even more damage was discovered than was thought present at first.

Did the former repair person exact revenge on the RAV4? Is the RAV4 pulling itself apart in a desparate plea for help? Or is this just a ploy on the part of the body shop, convincing me my RAV4 is still out of service while some hot shot with a drill tools around town in my car?

The shop manager tried to console me -- wishing there were something he could do for me. After all, he said, the rental car is paid by the insurance company, what could he do for me? Not missing a beat, I volunteered that he could pay for the excessive amounts of gas this Suzuki guzzles in its pathetic attempt to prove itself worthy of renting. "Gas?" said the body shop owner.
"No, we can't do that, sorry". But we will shampoo and wax the car, and fill its radiator with Holy, De-Ionized water.

Oh if only my RAV4 had a standing DNR (do not repair) on file.

My affiliation with Rice University is no secret, nor is my affection for that University and my residential college Will Rice College. WRC has put up a web page, and readers of this column might find humor in the posts on that page. I certainly did.

To help understand, Will Rice College is one of 9 residential colleges. You belong for life, and the assignment is random, but nonetheless have the colleges developed their own identity. Hanszen is one such college, and there is much disparaging of that college in the posts. There is also talk of a light rail system between WRC and Baker College, with Baker being some 100 feet away from WRC.

A particular favorite of mine was G-d Tries to Eliminate Hanszen .

There's an old joke about induction and pop quizzes that's worth retelling.

If somebody promises you a pop quiz next week, it can't happen.

Proof:

• If Thursday comes and still no pop quiz, then it must be on Friday,
  in which case it won't be a surprise. Thus, you can't have a pop quiz on Friday.
  
• With Friday ruled out, if Wednesday comes and still no pop quiz, then it must be on Thursday; again, no surprise.
  
• And so on
  

The 102 graders and I were talking about pop quizzes last night, and we agreed that you should be able to give anybody a pop quiz at any time. Like, maybe, twice in the same lecture period. They may expect hte first one, but the second one would surely come as a pleasant surprise.

Taking this a step further (a theme of my life), I think I should be able to approach any of my students at any time and given them a pop quiz. I don't limit the scope of this to before graduateion, either. Someday, you may be walking the streets of Palo Alto, and like a fee-hungry warrant-server, I will appear out of nowhere and deposit a pop quiz in your hands. Surprise!

My 4-year-old and I went on our semiannual pilgrimage to Sam's Club, in the land of Manchester where the bargains lie. Every time I shop at Sams (twice a year), there's some kind of problem when I go to check out. I had been freeloading off my wife's card, but last time they made me go get my own (they said I didn't resemble her picture enough to use the same card).

Why do I go to Sam's? I stock up on candy and carbs for my research assistants, advisees, and students about to take the mayhem I like to call Exam I in cs102. So being nearly depleted prior to the Spring break, I thought it prudent to restock. Hence the trips to Sam's.

When I tried to check out, the guy at the register kept scanning my card (my card, with my picture on it), but it kept saying "NM COS QUIT" which is short hand for "that guy is not a member here". It's only the second time I tried using the card, so of course a manager had to be called.

While we were all waiting for authorization from on high, the guy started asking me about all the candy and stuff I was buying. I also bought some drinking glasses to add to the ones we still have (their resemblence to restaurant glasses is purely coincidental). I decided to keep my M&M motives to myself, so I gave him some very vague answers, which only made him more curious. I told him that the reason for the candy was on a need-to-know basis, top secret.

At the end, he tried to pronouce my name to say good-bye, and asked me if that's how I say it (of course, it wasn't --- in fact, even those of you who know me very well don't know how I pronounce my name: fodder for a future post). I just shrugged and wheeled the cart toward the exit.

At Sam's, the exit guy looks at your receipt, pretends to scrutinize your cart, and then draws a yellow stirpe down the receipt. I think it's always yellow, but I don't sample all that frequently.

Well, the bottom line is that my office is now stock full of good stuff, so come by and help yourselves.

I've had my rented Sazuki SUV for over a week now, and have some strongly held opinions about the car. My background in cars: Mercury Capri, Subaru GL Hatchback, Saturn Hatchback, Toyota RAV4. All of those cars were standard transmission.

The Sazuki SUV I rented has an automatic transmission. I would have thought they would be better by now, but they are not. The engine races when it should chill, and doesn't know when to shift. It's like my car is perpetually in drivers' ed.

Based on my experience with the Subaru and Toyota cars (and my wife's former Subaru Legacy), I had the misconception that Japanese cars are better in the human factors department. For example, my Saturn had two side mirrors; the position of the driver's mirror could be controlled by a mechanical lever within easy reach of the driver. Of course, that miror could also be adjusted by just rolling down the window and moving the thing. The passenger's side mirror had no such lever, so you had to get out of the car and walk around to adjust it.

The Sazuki is more akin to the Saturn than to the other Japnese cars I've owned. The four-wheel drive has to be engaged, and I'm not sure the front wheels have a differential on the drive. When turning, the wheels slip noticably. I still have not figured out how to lock and unlock the car. If you lock the doors and then shut the driver door, the lock pops back open, like those old America cars used to do. I think they want you to use your key to lock the doors, but the switch therein is bad and so the doors don't always lock.

The Sazuki is a 6-cylinder and while it has more pickup than my RAV4, it also guzzles gas faster.

I miss my RAV4 and will be glad to have it back.

OK, students: some of you have been to Florida; others have been to Florida too.

Enough is enough: It's time to come back.

Students, come back, so that Holmes Lounge, the Bakery, and the AC will resume their normal hours.

• I caught up with all my TOPLAS backlog
  
• I wrote most of a cs102 exam
  
• With Dave Jurgens , I helped complete the mayhem that I like to call Lab 5a .
  
• I played with the Blast our last game against a B-league team for this season.
  
• We rented an RV for the Summer in preparation for Betsy and Rons' Excellent RV Adventure.
  
• I helped my 4-year-old set up an RV in our basement. Actually, it's a cardboard box but he put a pillow, some plastic dishes, and some fake food in it.
  
• I wrote recommendation letters for worthy students and colleagues.
  
• I reviewed 2 papers for an embedded-systems conference.
  
• I cleaned up my office.
  
• I went out to lunch 3 times, to different places, spending more than 20 minutes eating lunch.
  
• It looks like I got a haircut (see post below)
  

NPR reported yesterday that those who had issued fake IDs to the minions of he-whom-I-won't-name from 9/11 were sentenced for their role in the catastrophe.

Their defense? "We didn't know who they were".

Because I had used it at my kid's chorus practice Tuesday, I came to work with my guitar (in its case). I tried leaving the guitar in the car, but it started to cry, so I relented and brought it inside. On my way in, 3 people remarked about my haircut.

I didn't get a haircut.

I've heard similar stories, where somebody will get a new pair of glasses, or wear a new shirt, and people remark about that person's haircut.

So it seems that whenver something fundamentally changes, people jump to the conclusion:

Oh! (all conclusions begin this way) he (or she) just got a haircut

I wonder how far this can be taken? Do the changes have to be external? When Chris and Lucas take on super powers as they graduate, will people think it's their haircut?

Maybe you're wondering about the title of my post? Fret not! My guitar's name is Jim McStaggerwalt, but you can call him Jim if you like. He's a 12-string, American Guild guitar. He's named after the guitar teacher I had at camp, who had the first 12-string I'd seen.

Jim's strings are badly in need of changing (I prefer silk and steel), and I'm going to do that this weekend, after which people will probably stop me and ask me about my new haircut.