It's all academic

My spring has been more hectic than normal. I'm coaching the high school crew team for three hours every afternoon, I'm taking an evening class two nights a week (for purposes of recertification), and I'm still teaching full time (five classes.) I am also the high school's senior class moderator responsible for graduation & baccalaureate.

So I've been a little remiss in my blogging. I can only hope that the esteemed Moth world blog championship judges will cut me a bit of slack. Only a prop from Paul: "Joe, you're the Robert Pirsig of the class, but with Moths instead of Motorcycles" has nudged me back to the computer keyboard where I'm pecking out this entry. My actual sailing is still waiting on a production foil from OZ (more on that snafu tomorrow.)

So, anyway, last night I printed out the analysis Bill and John have published for the Chesapeake Sailing Yacht Symposium. Really cool stuff for an academician. One conclusion might be that skin tight windsuits (a la speedskaters?) are in our future as a means of cutting aerodrag.

Enjoy some academic rockin' from the Paul Green School of Rock All-Stars




Travelling Riverside Blues, by Robert Johnson (1937)

Asked sweet mama, Let me be her kid
She said, "You might get hurt if you don't keep it hid"

Well I know my baby, If I see her in the dark
I said I know my rider, If I see her in the dark

Now, I goin' to Rosedale, Take my rider by my side
Still barrelhouse, If it's on the riverside, yeah
I know my baby, Lord, I said, "is really sloppy drunk"
I know my mama, Lord, a brownskin, but she ain't no plum

See my baby, tell her, Tell her hurry home
Had no lovin', since my baby been gone
See my baby, Tell hurry on home
I ain't had, Lord, my right mind, Since my rider's been gone

Hey, she promises, She's my rider
I wanna tell you, She's my rider
I know you're mine, She's my rider
She ain't but sixteen, But she's my rider

I'm goin' to Rosedale, Take my rider by side
Anybody argue with me man, I'll keep them satisfied
Well, see my baby, tell her, Tell her the shape I'm in
Ain't had no lovin', Lord, since you know when

Spoken: Why don't you come into my kitchen

She's a kindhearted lady. She studies evil all the time
She's a kindhearted woman. She studies evil all the time

Squeeze my lemon 'til the juice runs down my leg
Squeeze it so hard, I'll fall right out of bed
Squeeze my lemon, 'til the juice runs down my leg

Spoken: I wonder if you know what I'm talkin' about

Oh, but the way that you squeeze it girl
I swear I'm gonna fall right out of bed

She's a good rider
She's my kindhearted lady
I'm gonna take my rider by my side
I said her front teeth are lined with gold
She's gotta mortgage on my body, got a lien on my soul
She's my brownskin sugar plum...