Writing letters to graduate programs telling them I'm not going there. See, in previous years, it's been me getting rejection letters from them. Did they agonize over how to word their rejection letters? It's hard to imagine, but maybe. I'm not using a form, anyway.
That means I made a decision, of course:
See ya in the fall, Joe.
(He looks thrilled.)
OK, so clearly I need to do more obsolescent-techblogging. In typewriter news, I think I've got it all figured out after a little more experimenting. My motto: If it hasn't broken yet, it won't just from me messing with it. The biggest problem with it was actually the seller's fault: He put the ribbon in upside-down, and to "compensate" he put the spools in upside down...which meant they didn't turn and I was just beating holes in the ribbon. Ten powerfully messy minutes spent unrolling and rolling a ribbon later, and we're in business. Types like a dream.
Brian's right that it encourages a healthier typing technique. You have to move everything more, it seems like, which means that the typing is overall less repetitive. Typing on a computer, your wrists are almost motionless, which means that there's more regular stress on the ligaments and whatnot.
(Yeah, I'm totally a doctor.)
In other news, earlier this evening I put what I think might be some of the finishing touches on my thesis. I'm circulating it to my committee tomorrow, and once I incorporate their suggestions (assuming they don't contradict each other) it should be basically good to go. Which means I need a new research project, to keep the juices going. I decided to test a theory of mine, which is that there's so much source material on the Civil War that it should be possible to write at least a short conference paper (15-20 pages) on virtually anything. To that end, I set up a little program in Excel to choose a random item for me from the 100-odd volume Official Records that came out after the war.
And thus it was that Alfred began to research the Battle of New Creek. I doubt you've heard of this unless you hail from a particular patch of unincorporated rural West Virginia. Short description: Some Confederate raiders in December 1864 came on the little hamlet of New Creek, protected by a fort, and tore up the railroad, chased off the garrison, and raised a little hell. Next day, they're gone. In particular, I'm looking at the reaction to the battle, from Grant and Sheridan, to the officials in Washington, and other civil authorities and the press. I have a feeling that there's a story here about scapegoating officers, the weakness of many garrison troops (many of the Union men at New Creek were 100-day state militia called up from Ohio just before), and how the Union came to see its security and situation after the reelection of Lincoln. And I think a small event, such as New Creek, can do well to illuminate many of these issues.
Of course, I've been working on this for about three hours now, so I could be wrong.
My point is this. When I visited the University of North Carolina this past weekend, another student (studying postwar German history) asked me, when she heard what I wanted to do, what there could possibly be left to study and write about the Civil War. Frankly, in almost any area of history the unknown is so much vaster than the known it's not even funny. Even if you look at just the knowable, it seems like there's a bottomless well out there. A lot of people, in any field, despair of finding something to study--but I think there's stuff to study everywhere, and if you can't think of something...study something at random.
I'll keep everyone posted about my New Creek project.
My other project recently has been choosing a PhD program. The finalists are Penn State and North Carolina. I'm pretty sure I know where I'm going, but I'm going to sleep on it one more night...
In what may be part of a disturbing trend for someone who doesn't use a cell phone, I just took possession of a typewriter. A manual typewriter. From 1923. It's one of the earliest Remington portable typewriters. My main impetus to getting the thing is, of course, a game--De Profundis. I like the idea of people playing the game by writing letters to each other on vintage equipment, so when I found this one for cheap at a typewriter repair shop I picked it up. The dealer oiled it up, put on a new ribbon, and it's about as good as new. I'm sure I'll find some other use for it as well, such as perhaps a doorstop.
There are several interesting things about the typewriter. The first is that, once you sit down in front of it, you feel an overwhelming desire to move to the Florida Keys and write about boxers. The next thing you notice is that there's no "1" key. I'm not sure how to handle that. At first I thought that there was some kind of mistake, but I found other pictures of these typewriters...and no 1 key. And there's no typebar for it, either. How do you make a 1? A lowercase "l"? If so, how do you make an exclamation point? It's also a very attractive piece; it makes a nice objet d'art. The other thing about manual typewriters is that you have to learn to move your fingers differently. On a computer, or an electric typewriter, you can kind of let your fingers glide over the keys, taking mild taps of the required letters. Unless you're mad. On a manual typewriter, if you want the letters to show up you have to show some authori-tay.
My typewriter didn't come with an instruction manual, so you have to figure out how everything works essentially on your own. Manual typewriters are complicated instruments, I tell you what. All kinds of levers and wheels and settings and miscellaneous dealy-bobbers. There are a few internet resources, but not a whole lot. I did find a place that'll sell me a reproduction manual, though. I've got just about everything puzzled out; it's actually a fairly clever machine. You can do all kinds of stuff, as long as it doesn't involve the numeral 1 or exclamation points.
Some of the wargamers might appreciate this...
So, I've had Turning Point: Stalingrad for some years now. I went to get it off the shelf...and somewhere along the line I lost the board. God only knows how. I searched the other boxes assiduously, but no dice. (Or board.) I had all the pieces...the rules...but fat lot of good it'd do me.
I went on eBay, in the hopes that there would be "parts" copies out there. Again: No luck. And TP:S is one of those sought-after games, you know, so they weren't going cheap. I knew, though, that right now I had basically a box of random pieces that were useless, so I should keep an eye out for a full copy.
A week ago, I found a copy for sale. It didn't show a board in the picture. The seller didn't seem to really know what it was she was selling. Someone asked if there was a board--indeed, there was. (Good.) Someone else asked if all the pieces were there--and the seller refused to count them!
This is great news for me, since most of the buyers would be scared off. Since I'm looking for a parts copy, though, this is golden. I watch it, and pick it up for well under the market value for a known-to-be-full copy.
It came today. I open it up, and think "there are too many counters here." I count 'em up...and lo and behold, it came with the expansion kit, which sometimes sells for as much as the full game! If she had bothered to take the time to count the pieces, she'd have tripled the price she got...
And I'd have been left without a copy of a great game and an uncommon expansion.
The occasional all-nighter, I've decided, is good for the soul, even if you're in search of a half-decent second draft of a thesis instead of the infinite. I hadn't pulled one in...gosh, years. I stayed in the graduate office in the department; the offices have a different rhythm at night. One of the professors is a night owl himself; even he gave up at three, though. Two hours later, the first morning person came in. In the meantime: Me, and the cleaning crew.
For whatever reason, I had trouble sitting down and starting the editing process. Once I did, though, it went reasonably smoothly. One of those lessons I need to take to heart, I guess.
In other news: North Carolina took me. Any Chapel Hillians out there?
