Happy Easter 2007

What to Be When You Grow Up

I'm not sure what I'm going to be when I grow up. For today, I am an assistant professor. It's a great job, so who knows.

I've never known what I want to be when I grow up. Most of my students don't either. And that's OK, I tell them.

When I arrived in Las Cruces, N.M., in summer 1994, I was a political science major. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with that. But I had liked the political science classes I had taken at a community college in Phoenix (Paradise Valley Community College).

I already had given up on medicine once I discovered that I do not like being around sick people. So that was out.

Political science did not feel right. So I would stare at the NMSU undergraduate catalog. I would go through all of the majors. I would start over. I would chuckle at "soil science" almost every time.

As much as it is not like me, I would actually pause on wildlife science and ponder becoming a park ranger. It was a phase. I used to want to move to Montana or some other Big Sky state. It was a reaction to living in crowded, sprawled Phoenix for two years.

Anyway, I usually would pause on journalism and mass communications. I'm from a media family, and it was in my blood, it seemed. Then I would look at average starting salaries based upon major. And then I would get depressed.

I wandered into Milton Hall one day and met Dr. J. Sean McCleneghan, who was just then stepping down as department head. We spent a bit of time talking majors that day. Knowing how many credits I already had accumulated, "Dr. Mac" explained the benefits of staying a political science major. We talked about a minor in journalism.

But as with most things, I was "all in."

It's getting close to 13 years later. Mass communications has given me an amazing ride. I've covered Oscar De La Hoya and the Dallas Cowboys. I covered a university president, athletics director, and a head basketball coach all being forced out.

I covered a Republican presidential candidate, Bob Dole. I coordinated coverage of a Democratic presidential candidate, Bill Clinton. I met Dole several years later after I coordinated public relations efforts for a lecture he gave at Kansas State University.

I took pictures and asked questions of Garth Brooks at a news conference. I've seen a photograph I took go out on the AP wire and appear on Headline News. I co-hosted a radio talk show, where we interviewed then-governor Gary Johnson and then-mayor Reuben Smith.

Mostly, however, I have worked with a damned great group of people. And more than anything, these relationships are what I cherish.

This week I have spent getting back in touch with some of these people. It's been great. The group of fools with whom I put out a newspaper have gone onto some pretty amazing things. Four have either made it through or are about to finish law school. One has an M.B.A. and is a vice president of a company. They work on both coasts. A bunch live in Chicago.

Several are married. Some are expecting children. It's been cool to catch up with them.

And somehow my career has ended up here. And I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. And I hope that I never do. As long as I meet some equally cool people along the way.

Hanging Out in the New Lab

Photo by Melissa Frazier, College of Mass Communications.

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We're having fun on the South Plains. Stop by and see us some time.

P.S. Congratulations to Dr. Seungjo Lee, Indiana University's newest Ph.D.

Lab Building Necessitates Goo Cleanup Plan

Putting together a psychophysiology lab is not altogether unlike raising a child. It's a long, arduous task that is nonetheless extremely rewarding.

The big parts are expensive but simple and quick to buy.

But all of that money gets you nothing more than a lab full of expensive toys that do not play nicely together. The art -- and fun -- come in the little, $6 parts that make everything "go."

We invested the afternoon shopping at Lowe's and RadioShack.

First, there was the matter of cleaning electrodes. Frankly, we're sick of cleaning electrodes in the palaces of filth and stench known as the public restroom. This was fine at Ohio State, where we had a sink in the lab.

At Tech, we had to solve the problem anew.

In addition, in checking with one of the world's experts in startle probe methodology, it's bad to be running those expensive electrodes under tap water. Seems that those little silver/silver chloride babies are reserved for only distilled water from a nalgene squeeze bottle.

So the communication and cognition lab is implementing a new system.

Master's student Wes Wise suggested a utility sink with a catch bucket.

This is a great plan ... except ... someone has to empty the bucket containing distilled water, electrolyte gel, and participant, err ..., juice.

To whom should this job fall?

The inventor, of course.

So, according to lab minutes, and I am quoting here, Wes's new title is, "master goo disposer."

Above is a picture of the exact sink we bought today at Lowe's.

Lucky Wes.

That's So Raven

You have not lived until you have attended a Raven concert with a couple thousand people including several hundred pre-teen girls. As a media researcher, I always enjoy opportunities to partake in media for which I am not the target demo ... that is until 500+ little girls began to shriek. I regained my hearing several minutes later. My 5-year-old daughter had fun, my 7-year-old was a bit afraid of the screaming in the dark, and my 20-month-old slept until the screaming began. Then she resumed her normal habit of shaking her head "no" at everything she did not like, including the screaming. Here is a picture of her having a smiliar reaction during a recent Fourth of July parade.

It was the girls' first chance to see a media "person" in person. Again, this was a mini experiment for me. They were largely unimpressed, except that the 5-year-old wanted to know why Raven couldn't see her waving.

After the concert, it was 97 degrees outside, so we made the obligatory visit to the Butter Cow, got some ice cream, and went home.