Might we consider a national holiday for the day after the Super Bowl?
It’s the Monday after the Super Bowl, in this case Super Bowl LIV (2020). My 9:00 a.m. class only has four students in it and one of them is taking the class as an audit (no credit or grade), yet not one of them has shown thus far and the class should have started ten minutes ago.
And this isn’t the first post-Super-Bowl-Monday when I’ve experienced this phenomena in my classrooms.
Along with the day-after effect of the big game, it started snowing yesterday afternoon and has continued throughout the night—albeit lightly—resulting in a healthy two inches of snow on the ground. In more than a month since the first day of winter, winter seems to have finally arrived on this third day of February.
I recently read that the day following the Super Bowl is the day more people call off work than any other day of the year.
As a school, we typically have the Monday following Easter off, so I’m wondering here, perhaps we need to consider another National Holiday following the Super Bowl—a day of recovery from the previous day’s excitement, gluttony, along with a good dose of alcohol-over-indulgence.
By the way, one of my students ended up making it to class—only 15 minutes late.
Starting out the new, spring semester, Northwest College students were notified upon their return that Einstein Brothers Bagel Shop—located in the Dewitt Student Center—would no longer be open on Saturdays and Sundays. Yet, one more blow of “nothing-to-do-here” for the students who reside on campus. And nowhere to really complain about it either.
In short, the campus is slowly transforming into a Monday-thru-Friday commuter campus that just happens to have dorms.
If you’re a campus resident who wants to hang around for the weekend, there’s little you can count on unless you go off campus—and Powell, Wyoming is hardly a town with a lot to offer. On campus, everything is pretty much locked down tight. And what little is available, you almost have to know the secret codes to access those spots. For example, if you want to get into Cabre Gym (even if you’re an athlete), you have to hope that someone is already in the building and is expecting you, or a door is already propped open by someone with a key (who has likely come and gone).
Art students who want to access the Art Department facilities should know that the only way to get in is through the back doors which are unlocked by a work-study student around 10:00 a.m. on the weekend mornings. Athletes should know this too since the gym and art facilities are in the same building.
The only thing you can count on as a campus resident is there will be a dining hall open as long as you get there during their hours of operation. That said, maybe in the not too distant future, the dining hall will close on the weekends and the students will be required to vacant the dorms on Fridays at 5:00 p.m. and return no earlier than 5:00 p.m. on Sundays.
And, a student newspaper is another campus asset that has been long-gone in the name of fiscal accountability.
If you should somehow and miraculously get inside a building/classroom on the weekend, you’ll want to keep your coat on because the physical plant drops the room temperatures down to at least 65 degrees on the weekends (and lower depending on the building’s HVAC functionality). However, in using another “secret code,” you can press the “Manual On” button on a given room’s thermostat and it will display “occupied.” Keep on pressing that button and it will allow the room to stay occupied for up to 90 minutes.
On this Super Bowl Sunday, I came into one of the Macintosh labs that was sitting at 65 degrees and after 90 minutes it was up to 70 degrees. I have since “reoccupied” to ensure that it stays at the 70-degree mark.
Saddest of all is that students don’t have much say any more in how things are around here. They can complain to some administrator’s office if they know who that is, but there’s nothing that truly empowers their complaint like a student newspaper reporting on such issues and holding the decision-makers to some degree of accountability. And, a student newspaper is another campus asset that has been long-gone in the name of fiscal accountability.
In summary, Northwest College has become a “meh” campus. It’s basically just another commuter, community college disguised as a “resident” campus because it has dorms. Yet, the nothing-to-do-on-the-weekend school is ironically 72 miles from Yellowstone’s East Gate, but that’s a topic for another day.
Here’s a couple drone videos I produced with Northwest College in mind. In particular, the ideal audience would be for those beyond Wyoming and Montana (where the majority of our students come from)—and especially for those to the farther outreaches that are east and south of our little campus.
When you can’t get your camera ready in time for a fighter aircraft passing over, just flip him/her the bird and you’ll likely get another opportunity. Here’s the second pass of an F-18 Hornet flying by to really check me out.
Littering is littering, but when it shows up in those sublime places, I believe the crime is more severe.
Not far from the Powell Municipal Airport, I can across this gem… this “Wyoming Reststop.” When I come across such overt littering/dumping like this, I always try to picture the person, and of course the first image that comes to mind is some toothless White Trash dude and his cousin. But then, I start considering a couple of college-age students who just need to get out of their apartment ASAP. Regardless, I suspect whoever is guilty of this probably is rationalizing that someone will come along and pick it up and dispose of it properly. Nevertheless, if caught in this crime, I’d like to see these people serve some jail time and booked as a felony rather than a slap-on-the-hands misdemeanor.
I might have to go up there and be the one who removes it knowing that whoever did this is likely from my home town—and God forbid I know them. So, shame on you, Powell, shame on you Wyoming for such ugliness to curse your sublime landscapes.
“You are in a continuous cycle of renewal, where all you comprehend doesn’t stay unchanged for long.”
— Steven Redhead, Life Is a Dance
This is the first post on my revamped blog. Perhaps you’ve visited the original site at everydaydissidence.blogspot.com. If so, you’ll find that all my older posts from blogger will eventually be migrated over to this site (so no content is lost), and I’ll be adding new content as well—hopefully on a more regular basis.
This site has at least three objectives. First, it is a laboratory for this author to learn WordPress. Although I have been dabbling around for years with various web-site-building tools, I’ve decided to jump completely in to the world of WordPress given its wide level of acceptance and usage in the profession of web design.
Secondly, in my current position as a junior college instructor of graphic design, we have revamped our web design course with WordPress as the primary tool for web design. I will confess here that the first offering of this class Spring of 2020 will be downright rough given my limited experience working with this particular software. But, I’m the only qualified instructor available at this time, so forward I go. Hopefully my design and technical background will aid somewhat in taking on this task.
Thirdly, as I come to learn more about WordPress, ultimately I will be migrating my content from Blogger to WordPress—or some other provider via the WordPress interface. In this particular case (site), my Everyday Dissidence blog. Ultimately I will also migrate my other blog on small town high school football in the same way, except that is probably even further out. For now, you can still view that site here.
But, again as far as the content of this particular site goes, it will involve quite a bit of migration and some new content related to all things suitable for “Everyday Dissidence.”
The recent controversy and mystery involving the safety of the Boeing 737 Max jetliners had me thinking the other day. I’m unsure how many years it’s been happening, but if there has been one reoccurring dream in my life, it has to do with plane crashes—big plane crashes.
These nightmares of aircraft disasters are never the same. Sometimes I’m in the plane, other times I watch one go down just over the horizon and then see the bright light of the explosion just above the tree line with a big plume of smoke rising after. When I’m in the plane, there’s never any question about what is going to happen. A wing or engine becomes detached and the plane will slowly roll over into an inverted nosedive. I don’t recall ever hitting the ground in this scenario as I always seem to wake myself up.
I often wonder if these dreams are premonitions to something about my future, or are they simply a reference to my childhood—where I was always watching the planes fly over our house on their way to the Akron Municipal Airport—a little over a mile away. Often it appeared that the various overhead aircraft would barely clear the trees on Wirth Avenue (the last high point) before the airport. The Goodyear Blimp was a frequent overhead visitor in those days too.
I’m writing this now just in case I should perish in this way. Maybe someone will come across this writing and say, “See, he knew he would go this way!” Maybe I should have written this years ago. That said, it’s never felt as if my demise is certain in this particular manner either.
For the record, I first flew on a plane in 1978—traveling from Columbus to Phoenix via TWA on their 727s and 707s back in the day, with a stopover in St. Louis—and have flown numerous times since. I always get a bit nervous a few days before getting on board, but once I’m in the plane and we are taxiing hard down the runway for takeoff, there’s no sense of fear. It’s just exciting and fascinating, especially if I have a window seat.
While Northwest College wrestles with all things related to the problem of diminishing state funds and enrollment, several ideas are being tossed about the campus designed to offset these critical times of financial crisis. Almost every proposed solution has to do with cutting or merging positions by means of reorganizing or diluting in such a way that cutting and merging are facilitated.
Sadly, as we consider how to keep on doing what we’ve been doing with less, one idea that hasn’t received serious consideration (to my knowledge) is the idea of renaming/rebranding the college—a college with a name so ambiguous, so easily forgettable that it would never be missed.
The idea of “Northwest” in its name for the college came from a time when the school (or any of the other junior colleges) never looked beyond its own state’s borders—a time when the target population was mostly Wyoming based. But, as we know the times have changed, and relying on a student population that is Wyoming based is extremely short-sighted and fiscally irresponsible.
Think about it, “Northwest College.”
Is that in Washington somewhere?
No, it’s in Northwest Wyoming.
Anything else in the area that would be more unique, more recognizable in terms of association?
Well, there’s this place called Yellowstone National Park.
Is there any other institution of higher education using that moniker?
This has innocently turned out to be a ripe textbook marketing-identity case study (or nightmare). The current school name is so timid regarding its location that when the college updated its logotype back in 2004, they added “Wyoming” underneath the school’s name. Might as well have attached the zip code too.
Even people in our own state often refer to us as “the college in Powell.” And, when they do use a name, they still get it wrong in saying “Northwest Community College.” Hell, one of my students used that old name in a short essay he wrote the other day.
Yellowstone College. It’s a slam dunk, a no-brainer, but you know, that would cost money in rebranding and whatever else associated with such a deliberate and obvious change. Nevermind that when the college moved it’s website and email address from www.northwestcollege.edu to www.nwc.edu, there was plenty of reprinting of various forms, letterheads and business cards to keep our printshop busy in the year that followed. Basically, we’ve gone through dress rehearsals like this before and barely blinked.
Saddest of all, the college used to be called Northwest Community College up until 1989. As near as I can tell, sometime before that a movement evolved (clearly “movers and shakers”) and managed to get the school renamed to Northwest College (sans “Community”). Supposedly that made things a lot better. Talk about failed rebranding testimonies.
As gutting of the institution’s public relations office continues—from nine staffers in 2010, down to six in 2018, nothing would boost enrollment numbers more than a name associated with one of the most popular travel destinations in the world. What other institution of higher learning is more entitled given the East Entrance is just over 70 miles from our campus. Instead of explaining to the whole world where and what Northwest College is, Yellowstone College would wipe away all of that unnecessary, utilitarian, and no-one-is-listening-anyway language.
Nevertheless, like all of my ideas, this one is also a bit too bold for our milquetoast institution of higher learning. So, as long as we’re keeping “Northwest College,” perhaps we can at least poke a little fun at ourselves by printing up some of those bumper stickers that ask, “Where the Hell is Northwest College?”
Postscript: Along with the gutting of the public relations office, just over a year ago the financial crisis was also the rationale stated for the sinking of the student newspaper which did as much—if not more—to promote the college.