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EDWARD JACOBS

Author: Ed Jacobs

  • Tuesday, May 12, 2020

    Feeling things hitting close to home.  Hearing of a few more people ill with Covid, both family and family of dear friends; and more people losing their jobs now. 

    So many musicians have lost every job on the horizon, really through August and, in some cases through October.  Those in my sphere who’re in academia are relatively safe still, though furloughs and pay cuts are likely not far off.  But others in the ‘professional’ world are now also being laid off.

    The most recent layoff hits very close to home, though the reaction it’s causing is a jump-start to job-hunt action, which I’m glad to see.  Within hours of the lay-off news, which came as an enormous surprise even to immediate supervisors, phone calls to contacts have been made, resume updated, and some very interesting reconsiderations of goals.  The family is now open to relocation, which is something I’d not have expected.  There’s severance through the end of July, so hoping for some good news, as the experience they bring to their resume is significant and well-regarded.  I just don’t know if people are hiring, and the heartache will be another heart-wrenching situation to see and feel.  Looking over their work history, though, reveals that when such traumas have happened, a situation emerges that was better than the position that ended.  Hoping, so very deeply, that this is the case again.

    Feeling fear and anxiety for another; knowing what it feels like to be in a situation out of one’s control; wishing to ease another’s burdens, but completely unable to do so. 

    All of this balanced by good news from a young colleague whom I’ve been helping since last summer.  He just got a job offer, a one-year position with the expectation of a tenure-track search in the coming year.  Those things are never a guarantee, but it looks promising, as that was told to me unsolicited when I was phoned for a reference.  This young man is not a U.S. citizen, so there will ultimately be immigration issues if he’s hired more long-term, but that’s to be dealt with at another juncture.  It’s good to hear a dose of positive news.

  • Monday, May 11, 2020

    The online/virtual graduation ceremony last Friday was more than I expected.  Brief (35’) and efficiently delivered, there were some moments of touching sentiment, moments of worldly wisdom, moments of kitschy school pride.  But it was a meaningful event, well done.

    During the event I was thrilled (really) to receive messages from cap-and-gown-clad pictures of students I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with during their time in the School of Music.  The personal messages, rather than the mass graduation ceremonies, were very moving expressions.  This particular group of grads—who I’ve missed dearly this past semester, who have themselves gone through such difficulties during the final months of their time in school, missed so many milestones in the completion of their degrees—will surely have a special place in the hearts of their teachers.

    Perhaps this is the same sense of incompleteness one feels upon retirement, leaving students and projects not yet taken to their last stages.  At some point in the not-too-distant future I suppose I’ll know better about that comparison.

  • Sunday, May 10, 2020

    The school year now officially closed, and there are so many non-fatal casualties, along with the covid-19 victims.

    Colleagues leaving us through retirement, new opportunities or, worst of all, massive budget cutbacks requiring elimination of positions.  Along with graduating students, there’s no opportunity for career closure.

    One among many valued colleagues, the director of our bands, Scott Carter, is retiring after a long and distinguished career.  He was an undergrad here at ECU, then taught in a public school system for years before pursuing his graduate degrees, and ultimately joining the School of Music’s faculty long before my arrival in ’98.  His words in a recent correspondence, about what we do in this field of music-making: “To be a part this experience, for no other reason than the experience itself, for me, is the best our profession has to offer. I think the virus has confirmed that so much of what we do can just go away—confirmation of what really matters and that is the collective experience itself. The meaningful doing where there is no why.”

    The meaningful doing where there is no why.  I like that.

  • Saturday, May 9, 2020

    Now starting a different blog-thread, Pandemic Life. This post double-listed, but will only post in Pandemic Life moving forward.

    Another good read:

    But the value of education, the value of educating the next generation, is not held high by American society, gov’t, businesses, indeed by those who espouse capitalism as a panacea to the world’s problems.  The values prioritized by the generation that went through the great depression and WWII are fading fast under vacuous leadership. 

    Those of us in the field of education are effected, of course, but not nearly as much as those we’re charged to guide towards the future.  Of course, the pendulum will swing in the opposite direction over the next generation, but in the meantime a generation will fail to develop its resources.  I am very afraid for a country that is failing miserably at so much. 

    We see strong and positive models around us, but these voices are not the strongest now, nor have they been for years now.  The loudest voices are those of hatred, exclusion, isolationism, finger-pointing, and no sense of the importance of independent thinking.

  • Friday, May 8, 2020

    Now starting a different blog-thread, Pandemic Life. This post double-listed, but will only post in Pandemic Life moving forward.

    This article is a great one, I think.  https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/the-pandemic-is-the-time-to-resurrect-the-public-university

    A recent meeting i attended included some University of California faculty.  Fac/Staff in the UC system are told to expect a 25% pay cut, and a 25% furlough of staff.

    “Pay cuts and furloughs.  We keep hearing about these, but the UNC System has been mum.  Not sure how we get to the level of cutting that looks like is around the corner without many more tools like pay cuts and furloughs.  I hate to say it…” (a candid comment from a UNC system-member Dean.)

    It’s all terrifically frightening, and terrifically anxiety-producing.  It’s not the pay-cut, or the level of work that’s got me frightened, though, to be honest.

    I’m feeling significant anxiety in knowing that I need to create two versions of every class for the year, ready to pivot online in a flash.  In addition to losing staff support and, likely, salary, we’ll need to design double the curricula; we may start on campus, but we all know there will be a second wave, worse that the first, and that we’ll go online before the first 8-week session is over.  And let’s face it, a class designed for online instruction is a completely different class than a face-to-face one.

    The level of work doesn’t frighten me; what is now keeping me awake at night is that I have spent the last 35 years building a sense of teaching-as-performance, keeping sessions lively with humor, reading students faces/expressions to know who’s having trouble.  And now, well in advance (unlike the short-notice shift of this past semester) of the semester’s start, I realize that I have to re-conceptualize my idea of teaching; to create a completely new approach to engaging students in academic and skills classes (theory, e-music).  And if I fail at that, then I should just be sending students to some online free class that just involves reading and drills.  If I’m unable to completely reconceive my understanding and execution of teaching, there’s no reason for students to enroll in classes I teach, because the extra money they spend on ECU isn’t adding any value.  And the online teaching we do, with ever-decreasing support, will also serve as models for students who may enter a teaching profession that requires them to teach online.  

    Not to mention that the fundamentals of our creative lives–the ideal of making music, what an ensemble is, how the solitary practice we all do in order to contribute to a larger effort—will already be a different “fact” for students come August.

    I have never before flinched in the face of teaching, nor questioned our society’s need to offer guidance in the creative arts of music, dance, theater.  Now I know that I know nothing about how to do this.

    But, of course, happy to have a job.

  • Thursday, April 29

    We are back in Greenville, now for 10 days.  Coming home was a good move, as Hawaii’s extended its lockdown to the end of May…it was a nice condo unit, but better to be taking care of this house, getting outside for yardwork, m’cycle riding, etc.  Things generally quiet here, but people not as cautious as in Hawaii; few masks, e.g.  But we’ve been back nearly 2 weeks, are healthy, although Pattie’s really reacting to a potent spring bloom in the air.

    Sorry you have to leave the island, but the CAT scan’s essential…how long has it been at this point, 3 yrs?  I know you’ll both take all necessary precautions, so hope it’s a safe and easy trip in and out.  Sorry you won’t be able to sit and enjoy a nice meal at a favorite café but, alas, let the suspense keep building.

    ECU’s Chancellor has announced that in some fashion we’ll be operating on campus in the fall.  He admittedly doesn’t have details, but says many options are being considered, i.e., some online, drastically shortened semesters (i.e., a UNC system-wide switch to 8-wk terms), and lots of other possibilities.  Everything remains online through the summer sessions.  Our Dean noted that we were already slated for a 5% cut before all of this…now administrators are being asked to prepare for a 15% cut.  Lean times ahead, for sure.

    We spent the first week here bringing everything back down from the attic (which we’d stored to get out of the way of the renters).  It took 3 days to just get most of it down here and mostly put away, but lots still in boxes, and still about 10 boxes in the attic.  A few days of yard work was really welcome, and the lawn’s growing fast; this weekend will bring another day with the mower.  But we’ll also take a day trip to the beach to see what’s going on there.  Just heard from the construction manager and it actually seems pretty darn close; floors going in this week and hopefully done by Friday, then the only thing left is putting in bathroom vanities.  But that may mean they haven’t yet ordered them, we have to wait weeks for delivery, etc….we’ll see.  When it’s possible to get there, get everything moved in from storage, we’ll relocate as soon as possible.

    In the meantime, stress-baking/cooking, indeed.  Here (since the final month in Kona, in truth), I’ve been making bran muffins a few times a week; and either lentil or split pea soups weekly, as well. 

    I find it very difficult to concentrate on writing.  I have three songs that have been 95% complete for over a month, very few decisions remain to be made, but I can barely bring myself to even look at them, so I don’t.  A few weeks ago I started a little diversionary project for cellist friend, a little solo thing, just a few minutes.  It’s good, and I know where it’s going…but am really having problems writing more than a note or two each day.  Lots of days with no writing at all, not even looking at music at all. 

    Although I feel in generally ok spirits, it does feel like a low-grade depression, i.e., the same ennui felt by most of the world right now.  I have successfully stayed away from briefings from Washington for many weeks now, just catching Cuomo on alternate days.  But the NYTimes headlines are so upsetting; the protests which are pushing ‘re-opening’ and which seem sure to cause more waves of covid, then a fall wave coinciding with the flu…so much misery for so many people.  And that so much of what’s going on is being politicized by morally bankrupt ‘leaders’ can only be described as sickening.

    And the medical workers—I just cannot imagine the horrors they’re experiencing in dealing with the ravaged victims.  I know it’s not hitting most people very hard, but it is clearly hitting many people and families, isolation, dying alone, no good-byes…just so, so heart-breaking.  A frighteningly real blog for our day.

    A death in the family (not covid-related) saddens all of us.  A generous soul, and man filled with great humor, smarts, and care.  Am so very sorry that we won’t travel for a funeral, but find a silver lining in knowing that he was at home with his wife, children/spouses, and that they’re together in grappling with the exhaustion of dealing with his loss.  I know from experience the difference between being there when a loved one dies, and being informed of such a death by phone, and I’m glad that Larry’s family were able to be together, and am so deeply sorry for the many who are in hospitals now and can’t be close as death approaches.

    And all of the darkening news is balanced by a joy-inducing video call from Joe, with Jackson.  They’re all well, and look great.  Jackson crawling easily now, and pulling himself up to standing.  Still so happy and smiling, now at 9 months.  So very glad that Joe and Cristin are both there to enjoy every milestone.

    As today is another day of waking at 2:30am, and clearly now (nearly 5am) need to lie down for a nap.

  • Tuesday, April 21

    A bizarre night’s sleep, with very odd dreams of people not seen in years.  Feel asleep early for about an hour, then up until 3, finally waking at 10:30.  Such an odd pattern for me; Pattie not awake until after noon, getting in 11 hours.  Clearly we’re readjusting to Eastern time, and catching up on needed rest.

    A beautiful day, and one for continuing to get re-settled here at home.  Lots of boxes coming down from the attic—today everything from the kitchen.  And then an afternoon of yardwork, as recent storms had left a lot of debris littered around.  By evening everything picked up, lawn mowed, things looking ok.  Tomorrow I’ll try to do more, but it’s respectable at this point.

    The attic unloading is a pain, quite literally, as lifting and moving heavy boxes while stooped over (only smacked my head on the rafters twice!).  A run to the store for a few items forgotten in yesterday’s big re-stock was an opportunity to get some Ben-Gay; won’t fix anything, but certainly provides some temporary relief.

    The day ended with thoughts of music, but no writing yet.  But I did listen to a podcast that really got me thinking about an idea for beginning teaching in the fall.  This podcast on RadioLab, starting with the Cataclysm Sentence Richard Feynman posed to his intro physics class in the early 60s.

  • Monday, April 20

    Greenville, NC

    The trip home, much to our surprise, went without a hitch, without delay.  Saturday night’s stay in the SFO airport didn’t yield much sleep, but that was as expected.  Our flight from SFO to CLT was different than the one from HNL-SFO, the difference seemingly one of the airline policies.  American wasn’t nearly as careful about distancing passengers, and there were people in every row, though alternate sides.  Of course, they’re needing to pay for these flights, and want to put people in the seats; but many people were not wearing masks, which just seemed oblivious to the obvious.

    The real surprise was in the CLT airport, where no workers—none—were wearing masks, and perhaps 25% of passengers were.  Our final flight home to Greenville was about half-full (perhaps 20 of 35 seats taken), with less than 10 of us wearing masks, but not the pilots or flight attendant.  The realization that NC, the airports, and the airlines are so lackadaisical is disconcerting, to say the least.

    We were back at home before 5:30pm, and pretty tired.  A beer, opening a few of the boxes we’d sent to ourselves over these past months, and by 9 we were in bed.  And, oh, how we appreciated our own bed.  A very healthy night’s sleep, I didn’t get up until 830, Pattie put in a few more hours.

    Monday was about unpacking everything, going through piles of mail, and beginning the process of bringing things down from the attic.  First step was just clothes, which was plenty.  We were amazed at how little we were traveling with—happily so—and now wonder what we need all these clothes for!

    A run to the grocery store to stock up was a bit more reassuring in terms of taking health-cautions.  A masked worker right at the front door was wiping down each cart and handing it out.  Most people in the store—and all workers—were masked and keeping distance.  Took it slow and really restocked our kitchen.  Slowly getting back to our basics.

    Towards the end of the day I took the bike out for a ride and ran into neighbors and friends on the way.  What a treat to see them; just so weird to not be able to hug ‘em, but great to see smiling faces, happy and growing children, and everyone healthy.

  • Sunday, April 19

    On the way home

    Yesterday’s travels all went very smoothly, if eerily.  At the Kona airport, all car rental returns were being handled by one company.  We returned the car, and just hopped on a shuttle.  Seas of rental cars parked there, just endless parks vehicles.

    When we arrived at the terminal, we had to fill out forms indicating our final destination.  All arriving flights in Hawaii (including inter-island) must self-quarantine for 14 days, so if we to leave the Honolulu airport (stopover to sfo) we had to swear to go immediately home for 14 days.

    finishing a great four months

    Then a military group on guard was stationed there to take our temps.

    Then on to get through security–we the only two, yet somehow I’m randomly selected for additional screening. Will never understand how that always happens but it happened again, even in this situation.

    ready to travel

    Inside terminal, we enjoyed the open air design, allowing another hour of vitamin d absorption, it was just me, pattie, and four other passengers to be on our plane.  Only other ppl here are 2 security guards, a cop, and 5 army guys on break from temperature- taking.

    Eerie.

    But we sure did enjoy a beautiful view during the flight…

    In Honolulu, a much larger airport (esp the international terminal, from which we fly to mainland), it was just as empty. 

    Entire terminals were closed.  When we got on the plane, we learned there were 19 passengers on this plane with a capacity of 220.  Smooth and easy all the way, though.

    Got luggage quickly, on to the terminal we are flying from Sunday morning (outside check-in), and found a place to lie down for a few hours. Awaking to write this and to check our bags and make our way to the departure gate…am amazed to see that both flights today are still scheduled as ‘on time.’

  • Saturday, April 18

    Departing Kona, leaving Hawai’i

    Pattie and I both experiencing very mixed feelings as we ready to leave.

    This adventure began on December 16 and we’ve been on the road—Baja, MX; San Diego; these Hawaiian Island—now for 123 days.  The world’s a different place today than it was when we left, and for many reasons our perspectives are so different than when we left.

    This final leg, lockdown in a wonderful condo in Kona, has been a relaxing way to conclude, if a bit of an anticlimax without the ability to get to diving, parks, beaches, restaurants, or even meaningful socializing.  But at the same time, it’s been ok, as the living space itself is so very comfortable and suitable to our tastes.

    But not all of our accommodations were quite this comfortable.  We’ve been in quite a variety of spots, a few tight studios, and a few more spacious.  In all these spots, though, we’ve really enjoyed being together, haven’t gotten on each others’ nerves, have found ways to give each other space, get things done, and been very happy to explore lots of different things.  From the long, long walks in San Diego, to the many diving excursions; from time in Baja with Tim and Tara to the two glorious weeks in Maui with Jackson, Cristin, and Joe; from the brew pubs in North Park, San Diego to the poke trucks and memorable restaurants in Hawaii; from the many folks we met diving, to the Swedes we met on the farm tour on Oahu’s north shore and shared a day with…so very many wonderful memories built.

    I was able to get some good writing done, develop some nice musical-friend connections, deliver a few pieces, and accomplish some quality evaluation and re-evaluation about what it is I do in making music.  And these last weeks, of course, have been a catalyst for much broader re-evaluation.

    Our time in Hawaii will have included 42 dives, or 80+% of our diving experience so far.  We’ve had lots of different terrains, weather conditions, water temperatures, methods of entry and exit, dive guides…and learned, seen, and encountered a fabulous variety of experiences, sights, and people along the way.  We’ve got so much to learn, but the contrast of where we are today with the trepidation we felt in December, knowing how many tasks and settings were going to be first-time, is huge.  Although we would love to get in more diving here in Kona, it seems that won’t be possible for at least another month, if not more, so we look forward to learning about the dives in NC when things open up there.

    It has been revealing to us how easily we adjusted to being away from home.  Joe, Tim, and Christine have all been great about staying in touch; Pattie was happy to talk to her mom every few days, and continue her ongoing correspondence with her dad.  Admittedly, when this pandemic emerged, we felt so isolated from our Gvl friends and family, but we knew that lockdown is lockdown, and seeing folks won’t happen wherever we are.  We do wish we could make a trip up to Scarsdale to hold, hug, and play with Jackson, though.  [Our original plan had been to sneak in a trip there before heading for Europe, then to meet Jackson, Joe, and Cristin somewhere in Europe during our stay, but, alas…]

    Today’s task, though, is to set off again, this time for a two-day trip in a new travel paradigm.  We’re packed—including a few downloaded movies, audio books, ebooks, snacks, and even yoga pad/wet suit for airport sleeping—and as ready as we can be.  Just checked in for tomorrow morning’s flights from SF to Gvl and, surprisingly, the system is telling me that all flights are operating.  Hard to believe, but we’ll hope for the best and expect something less.