I didn’t expect it to come with trumpets or fanfare, of course — indeed I can’t say that I’d ever thought about what to expect at all — but now that it’s here I find myself thinking about the how even as I contemplate the what.

It’s a few brief sentences on a one-page letter in a nondescript envelope slipped in with the departmental mail.

It’s a job for life.

…

Getting tenure is the great leap in academia, the guarantee of freedom from political influence or educational blackmail. It’s the golden goal we strive to reach. It’s the bar set high, and I’ve cleared it.

Barring something extraordinary, I have a job for life. By a blessed stroke of fortune, it’s even a job I enjoy, a job I seem to be pretty darn good at.

To say that this makes me happy would be to say too little. It’s positively thrilling. It puffs me up a bit with pride for having achieved it even as I’m humbled with the thoughts of all those whose help got me to this place. The influential teachers. The wonderful students. The supportive colleagues. The great friends.

I’m glad. I’m grateful.

There is relief, too. Relief to be done with the mechanical tedium of the process. Relief just to know. It doesn’t matter how much other people thought this conclusion was “in the bag”; I’m a prepare-for-the-worst kind of guy. To have it all done and to have it come out for the good … well, at moments I confess I’m even a little giddy.

So many people in this world live in want. So many live in worry. Here, on a tri-folded piece of copier paper, is a kind of release from it all. A job for life.

Security, when it happens, is a quiet thing.

But it is not a small thing.

Article Series - Chaucerizing

1. Scalzi Chaucer’d (Listen!)
2. Lake Chaucer’d (Listen!)
3. Seuss Chaucer’d (Listen!)
4. Kowal Chaucer’d (Listen!)
5. Kowal Beowulf’d and Chaucer’d: Shades of Milk and Honey
6. Jordan Chaucer’d
7. Jordan and Sanderson Chaucer’d

When I Chaucer’d a short passage from Robert Jordan’s Eye of the World, I mentioned that I was planning to do something longer from one of the later books.

Well, here it is, folks. Inspired by my time here at JordanCon. A bit from the Jordan-Sanderson last book. Not a lot to note as preamble about this except to say that the chapter that this is from is the best one in the whole series.

Well, I think so, anyway.

Perrin Aybara, one of my two favorite characters in the Wheel of Time, at last comes into his glorious own here. In this chapter, more than anywhere else, he becomes Thor, and there is nothing wrong with that.

This snippet — which gives only a taste at the power pounding through these pages — comes from chapter 40 of Towers of Midnight, Book 13 of the Wheel of Time (page 613 in my copy). If there’s interest, I might record it at some point so I can provide audio of it.

The Towers of Midnight

Towers of Midnight, by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson

Toures of Mydnyght, by Hrodebert Iurdane and Bromdune Alisaundresson

Perrin saw now what he was making, what he’d been trying to make all along.

Perun sawe what he was y-makynge now, what he hadde bene temptynge evere to mak.

[First, I've opted to go ahead and "translate" Perrin's name through the use of the Slavic god who is, I'm sure, one of his mythological forebears (the other big one being Thor). That aside, the phrase all along in connection with time (rather than distance) doesn't occur until the 17th century. I considered translating with something wordy, like "al and alday" (thinking of Troilus and Criseyde 2.457). Instead I opted for a simple word that implies the long continuity of Perrin's labors.]

He worked the largest lump into a brick shape. The long piece became a rod, thick as three fingers. The flat piece became a capping bracket, a piece of metal to wrap around the head and join it to the shaft.

He laboured the largest lomp into a bryke shap. The longe pece becam a rodde, thikke als thre fyngres. The flat pece becam a hede plat, a pece of metall to wrape aronde the hede and to the shaft joyne hit.

[The word capping, as used here, dates from the 18th century, and bracket is from the 16th. I've done my best.]

A hammer. He was making a hammer. These were the parts.

He understood now.

A hamer. He was y-makynge a hamer. These weren the partes.

Understondeth he now.

He grew to his task. Blow after blow. Those beats were so loud. Each blow seemed to shake the ground around him, rattling tents. Perrin exulted. He knew what he was making. He finally knew what he was making.

Groweth he to his taske. Stroke aftir stroke. Those strookes weren lowde. Eche stroke ysemed to shake the grounde him aronde, ratelynge tentes. Perun gloryede. Knew he for fyn what he was y-makynge.

[The verb to exult did not exist in Chaucer's day. Alas, for it is a good one. Ditto triumph, celebrate, and many another possible replacement. In the end, I opted for the verb to glory, which Chaucer never used but would have heard.]

He hadn’t asked to become a leader, but did that absolve him of responsibility? People needed him. The world needed him. And, with an understanding that cooled in him like molten rock forming into a shape, he realized that he wanted to lead.

He ne had noght axide to be a ledere, bot dide that of duetee him absolue? Peple him nedede. And als understondynge in him colede like molten rokke shapynge hitself, Perun knewe he desired to lede.

[Chaucer, like most men of his time, had no standard spelling. The word asked, for example, comes in various forms -- from which I've chosen the one that has the orthographical "play" of an axe in it. The word responsibility didn't exist for Chaucer, but duty very much carried the meaning intended here. I've also played a bit with the metaphor of the forming rock: tweaking the language would allow Chaucer to suggest a theological (or existential) rightness to the shape the rock is taking. It is, we might say, acquiring its natural form. And if there is anything that this wonderful scene is about, it is about Perrin doing just that.]

Article Series - Chaucerizing

1. Scalzi Chaucer’d (Listen!)
2. Lake Chaucer’d (Listen!)
3. Seuss Chaucer’d (Listen!)
4. Kowal Chaucer’d (Listen!)
5. Kowal Beowulf’d and Chaucer’d: Shades of Milk and Honey
6. Jordan Chaucer’d
7. Jordan and Sanderson Chaucer’d

It’s been awhile since I Chaucer’d something — taken a passage out of a book and translated it into the Middle English of the end of the fourteenth century — and I’ve been feeling the itch again. Since I’ll be heading to JordanCon this week, I could think of no better text to work with than one from Robert Jordan.

This decision, in turn, led me to a conundrum: the same conundrum, as it happens, that I face when I think about Chaucerin’ George R.R. Martin. Of the many awesome scenes and passages, which bit do I do? One wants some text that is exciting and fun and linguistically interesting, but it also needs to be short: Despite what my students think, I do have a life of my own.

In the present case, I’ve decided to start with my favorite passage from The Eye of the World, the first book (not counting the prequel) of The Wheel of Time series. Meanwhile, I’ve also begun eyeing a longer passage — my favorite from the whole series — that occurs in the Jordan-Sanderson Towers of Midnight.

At any rate, let’s get to a first look at Jordan as Chaucer might have written it. The passage in question comes from the mouth of the character Thom Merrilin, a sort of traveling bard who may be more than he seems.

The Eye of the World

The Eye of the World, by Robert Jordan

The Eyhe of the Erthe, by Hrodebert Iurdane

[Chaucer knew and used the word world, but I'm trying to keep in mind that he wrote to be heard aloud, and I think "Eye of the Earth" is pretty darn smooth.]

I have all stories, mind you now, of Ages that were and will be.

I have al tales, remembrestow now, of former Ages and Ages to be.

[For Chaucer, "stories" are generally considered non-fictional, while "tales" can include more imaginative narratives. I've also taken some liberty with Jordan's transitive verb mind: Chaucer could have done this, but he would have been on the cutting edge to do so. More likely he would have gone to the old standby "remember" and subsumed the pronoun into it; the result is a rather pedagogical admonition in the middle of the sentence, which fits the context well.]

Ages when men ruled the heavens and the stars, and Ages when man roamed as brother to the animals.

Ages whanne men reuled the hevenes and sterres, and Ages whanne man romede als brother to the beestes.

[The word animal comes into English right at the end of Chaucer's life, but I suspect that an older word would be more his style here since Thom is talking about a very distant age.]

Ages of wonder, and Ages of horror. Ages ended by fire raining from the skies, and Ages doomed by snow and ice covering land and sea.

Ages of wonder, and Ages of horrour. Ages endede by fyre fallynge doune as reyne from the skyes, and Ages domede by snawe and yse that covereth londe and see.

[A couple of interesting things to note here: for Chaucer, fire could mean both fire, which he considered an element, and passion, which he considered elemental. I could perhaps have worked to cut off the wordplay, but I actually think it fits well with Jordan's idea of balance. Also, though rain is an Old English word, I can't recall the form "raining" being used until the 16th century. Odd, eh?]

I have all stories, and I will tell all stories.

I have al tales, and I wol telle al tales.

[Nothing much to add here except to say that if you come to my talk on Saturday morning you'll start to see how very much Thom seems to be talking for Jordan here!]

Indeed, since I live and work at a college and I ride the bike in the biggest city park in Charleston, I’ve ended up talking a fair bit about my new wheels, to both colleagues and students. I didn’t buy the bike to “get noticed,” but there’s no question that it has happened.

Why, you ask?

Because my bike is a folding bike. More than that, it’s a really cool folding bike.

As background to how I got these nifty wheels, I should point out two things that loomed large in my decision making:

1. I live in Charleston and have no garage. These combined facts mean that storing things outside will result in rust and algae blooming upon them. If you want to keep something nice you need to keep it inside, which means it’ll take up living space. I was thus in the market for a folding bike.
2. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve started to favor quality over cost in my purchasing decisions. That’s not to say that money is no object — believe me, money matters in our house! — but I am increasingly interested in viewing purchases across a long term investment than across a short term impact. I was thus in the market for a good quality folding bike.

What I decided on was the Tern Link D7i. Tern is a new company, but it’s a sort of off-shoot from Dahon Bikes, which is a well-established player in the folding bike field. I liked what Tern seemed to be doing for the price range they were at, and the early reviews of their bikes looked positive.

Buying and Building

I would have liked to check one out in person, of course, but (alas!) no one carries Tern bikes anywhere close to Charleston. This fact was a bit of concern, since this was no small purchase for my income bracket. Still, after weeks of deliberation I rolled the dice and purchased one from ThorUSA. They were good to work with.

A short while later, the box arrived:

The Tern Box!

The box alone was pretty cool, for whatever that’s worth. With excitement, I peeked inside:

There's a bike in there!

Huzzah! I lifted it out carefully…

Pulled free from the box, in folded form.

It was more or less assembled, which is nice. There was a bit of work to do to put it together the first time, but it wasn’t much at all. In doing so I became aware of some issues that I’ll go into below, but first here’s a picture of it ready to go:

The D7i unfolded for the first time.

Pretty cool, isn’t it? You can see why I get comments about it as I cruise around campus.

And I’m pleased to say that it rides as good as it looks. It’s a truly awesome bike.

Problems

… except, that is, for a few problems, two of which are associated with the handlepost folding mechanism.

One of the things I’d liked about the Tern when I was researching it was the fact that it had a lot of great engineering and safety features. Among them was a safety catch on the handlepost latch: to fold it down you first pull back on a sliding safety pin before pulling back on the lever. It adds a measure of reassurance that the post won’t fold-up in the middle of a ride (which would, well, suck), yet it’s a one-handed 1-2 action that’s fast. So it shouldn’t add a second to fold times. That’s good engineering, and it’s worth some extra cost to me (since this bike is, in fact, more expensive than, say, a Citizen bike).

Alas, the actual execution of this seemingly good engineering was staggeringly bad. Sitting cross-legged on my floor, unfolding the bike for the first time, I lifted the handlepost up and started to pull the latch into place, just trying to get a feel for how the mechanism functioned. It didn’t click into place or snap shut, and I wasn’t finished with the installation of some other items on the bike, so I started to push the lever back so I could pull the handlepost back down and continue my work.

Snap.

I’m not a weight-lifter, by any means.  Yet somehow, sitting on the floor with my arms extended — pushing it away from me using nothing but the strength of my fingers — I had snapped the safety pin that was one of my excuses for paying a higher cost.

Here’s a picture of the lever, with my wee fingers holding the broken pin:

The broken pin, held close to the point where it broke off.

This was, as you can imagine, very disappointing. I remain astounded that Tern constructed a “safety” pin that’s so weak. If it can snap under those paltry conditions, it cannot possibly hold when under the weight of a rider — at which point I can’t imagine that it has a purpose beyond marketing for a higher cost to the customer. And I abhor that kind of behavior in a business.

On the plus side, the latch is an over-center lever latch, so mechanically it is unlikely to need the pin. Indeed, I’ve been riding without it ever since with no sign of the mechanism unfolding. On the minus side, that once again points to this as being a marketing gimmick.

So I’m pretty ticked off on principle.

Adding insult to injury, I found that after it was assembled, this latch physically impacts the handlepost.  You can see, in the picture below, that there’s metal-on-metal contact between post and lever:

Latch impact on handlepost.

This impact will eventually crack the finish on the bike, which is a bad thing. Given where I live (salty humidity), this is a recipe for trouble.

What’s amazing here is how easy a fix this would have been for Tern. Indeed, they seem to know about the potential issue since there’s a clear plastic sticker on another part of the bike where this kind of impact can occur. That’s all that’s needed (and it’s what I’ll do, I guess).  Why they didn’t put such a protective patch here, I have no idea. Disappointing.

And then there’s this next shot. When the bike came to me there was a kind of “flaky bubble” in the finish of the main part of the bike. I had a lot of other concerns when I first got it — what with worrying about whether the handlepost would fold down in mid-ride — and so I didn’t get any good pictures of it before the blemish actually popped off, revealing this displeasing feature on my expensive wheels:

Goodie. Brand new bike has a broken finish in Charleston salty humidity. Sigh.

Last but not least, I have to shake my head at the lack of markings on the seatpost.  This slides up and down — for folding and adjusting between riders — and it’s a really smooth mechanism.  Well done.  At the same time, you would think that they would have thought to provide some default markings, even some 1-inch ticks, to help each rider quickly locate his or her proper seat height.  As you can see below, Tern took the time to put a “Max Insert” marking on it, so it couldn’t have cost much more to add something to help the user out here.  I haven’t had a ride yet where I didn’t have to stop and readjust the seatpost since I lack an indicator.

If you can mark one height, why not more?

Verdict

This sounds pretty negative, and I really am disappointed to find these kinds of problems given the money we spent.

That said, the bike is otherwise incredible.  Seriously.  We love the ride, we love the look, we love essentially everything else about it.  It’s hard (for me especially) to set aside the poor manufacturing on the finish, the poor execution on a safety mechanism, and the head-scratching omissions … but when it’s all said and done I guess I can.  I ride it with a smile on my face, and when people ask me about it around campus or in the city parks I usually talk in glowing terms.

Would I buy it again if I had the chance?

Yes. I think I would.

And if that’s not enough of a review for you, perhaps the following shot of my wife will do. A smile is worth something, no?

The Wife, happy on the Tern!

My Sharp EL-9300C had been with me since high school. We’d lived in 6 states together. We’d shared gains and divided losses. We’d integrated laughter, derived smiles, and even graphed hearts.

Alas, the calculator croaked. I’d say it was an untimely passing, but I reckon that twenty-odd years is pushing it for graphing calculator lifetimes.

I can’t complain but …. well, it still hurt.

Fast-forward a few months and … lo!  It has risen!

An Easter miracle, you ask? Hail and hosanna to the highest?

Sort of, I suppose. Call it a miracle of the Modern Age.

In March, out of the blue, I received an email from Gregg M., a kind fellow who ultimately identified himself as

a hedonistic hydrophilic wanna-be-redneck who got spoiled on Florida beaches and pina coladas (and bikinis) and never quite learned to love huntin’ or beer. We don’t have kids, though I do have several forms of watercraft — three paddle-powered, one hydrocarbon burner, and recently have been trying hard to add a (cheap or free) sail-powered ‘something’ to the fleet. My indulgent & long-suffering wife refers to the ever-growing collection as the “Spanish Yardmada”. Mostly it resides under the whimsical backyard carport coined the “Garage Mahal”. The powerboat’s named “It’s A Moray” and gets dragged around by “Moby Truck- the great white Chevy”. (The puns alone make it obvious why she’s a ‘long-suffering’ wife… not so obvious: why she suffers me. Oh well, as long as its all about me… yippee.) Immaturity is my watchword: as the saying goes: “I was born too young, and when I die I’ll still be too young.”

I liked him at once, of course. I figure anyone with a Garage Mahal is okay in my book.

Anyway, Gregg not only had stumbled upon my post but then had taken the time to drop me a note about it:

Sitting in the desk drawer next to me there is an untouched EL-9300C if you would like it. Seems I had high hopes once, but never used it at all (despite working in technology all my life, I really don’t understand math…). It has been stored without batteries so it’s clean, truly “like new” — just tested with fresh batteries & it’s working.

This baby is all yours if you’re interested; would love to see it have a happy home.

To say I was stunned, thrilled, astonished and excited would be an understatement. I sent a note back to Gregg as soon as I was able, and he once again expressed his happiness to send me a replacement for the One That Went Before.

Not long afterward, I got the following in the mail:

How awesome is that? He even had the manual!

This little beauty is in extraordinary condition. Gregg had said that it was “still in pristine, unused condition,” and he wasn’t lying. It’s in better condition, honestly, than my belated beloved. (I’d tried hard to keep my old one in good condition, but a couple of decades of backpacks and boxes and bags and it had a nick or two.) I hope you’ll agree with me that it was an incredibly kind act for Gregg to send such a thing to a stranger for no reason other than this:

I’d be happy to help you relive the past a little.

Wonderful, no? Gregg opined that this might be “the best use of the internet so far,” which at this moment of elation I’m inclined to think is true.

Thanks, Gregg!