Tools of Thought
July 13, 2018
(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)
I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.
Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.
But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.
With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”
Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.
Our Place in the Sun
August 22, 2017
Today’s blog was written by MHSAA Website and Publications Coordinator Rob Kaminski
Millions of people across the country yesterday were mesmerized and fascinated by a once-in-a-lifetime show staged by the solar system: a total solar eclipse, which spanned the contiguous United States from Oregon to South Carolina.
The “Great American Eclipse” (because everything needs a title these days) was preceded by countless hours of coverage to prep enthusiasts on a variety of topics: the best places in which to view “totality;” the time frame in which the phenomenon would occur; the manner in which to view the orbs without damaging retinas; and, for the more scientifically inclined, detailed explanations as to the cause of the event.
It is somewhat ironic that this temporary traveling blackout began in the Pacific Northwest where people often yearn for even a glimpse of the sun over periods of time, and ended off the coast of South Carolina where residents have endured more than their share of weather disasters and a day of total sun would have been greatly preferred. At widespread locations in between, how many citizens beg for just a little more sunshine each day when the clock runs out on Daylight Saving Time?
The attraction to Monday’s event, of course, was its rarity. Its peculiarity. Its deviation from the norm. The last time a total solar eclipse could be seen anywhere in the United States was 1979, and the last time it went coast to coast was 99 years ago. That was the hook. It was darkness’s day in the sun.
Another MHSAA football season kicks off around the state Friday just clear from the shadows of Monday’s historic, but fleeting, happening. The school sports spotlight shines brightest on fall Friday nights and has for decades, not only in Michigan, but also from shore to shore across the country. It is pep rallies and parades; pizza parlors and burger joints; neighborhood caravans and tailgates; perhaps even a Friday cross country meet or volleyball match, all leading up to the football game, for many years the only game in town.
Now, as college football continues its attempt to upset the natural balance and create its own eclipse, it is our hope that high school fans from state to state will consider this movement a fleeting attention grab. It is our hope that the people who have fueled our product over the course of time will turn their heads and focus on the brightest Friday night stars in their own back yards.