The National Institutes of Health announced today that the grant submission process will be changed so that grant applications are allowed only a single chance to revise and re-submit, instead of the typical two chances that applications used to receive.  The agency cites the change as being necessary because 17% of first submissions were funded in 2002, compared with only 7% in 2006.  This just doesn’t make any sense to me.  The number of funded applications on the first submission has gone down because of what effectively amounts to cuts in the NIH budget (i.e. the budget has not kept pace with the biomedical inflation rate).  So now, the solution is to give scientists FEWER chances to get their research funded with the same, shrinking pool of money.  Yeah, that’s going to go over REALLY well.

On the plus side of things, I scored free coffee from Waggy’s today.  W00t!

As you can probably tell from yesterday’s posts, I was feeling surly and fed up with the disrespectful people that were interfering in our lives (e.g. squash thieves and annoying, unemployed, loud, pothead neighbors).  Today I’m over it, but I still feel the need to bring up a couple of things.  First, I keep thinking about how I’d handle the squash theft if Holden was a bit older and capable of understanding that someone had taken our veggies without asking.  Obviously I don’t want to encourage him to hold on to anger indefinitely when it doesn’t do anything to change what’s been done.  At the same time, though, I think it’s important for him to understand that you can’t tolerate being taken advantage of.  How would I explain to him the reason for someone stealing?  Would I suggest that the person was hungry and needed the food?  Nope—I don’t think I would.  Because I think that such an explanation justifies and supports the behavior.  I don’t want my kid thinking that he can take another kid’s Twinkies granola just because he is hungry and feels like it.  Additionally, it would be too much to expect a young child to understand the existence of social programs that are in place to feed people who need it, and that stealing food when there are soup kitchens less than a mile from the garden is like double-dipping.  This explanation is too abstract for a young child.  Would I instead explain that there are just assholes in this world?  Just people who do things for their own selfish needs without regard for others?  I mean, the concept of asshole isn’t really that abstract.  It has a figurative meaning as well as a literal meaning that does a decent job of promoting the proper imagery.  To explain poor behavior as “Well, he or she is just an asshole,” is succinct, accurate, and above all, lacking in the nuance that young children often have difficulty grasping.  I know that some people cringe at the thought of telling a young child that there are bad people in this world.  But you know what?  We have to face that reality at one point or another.  And if you introduce them to this concept at a young age, it won’t be such a shock to them later on when they are at work, surrounded by LOTS of assholes.  

Aside from how to deal with these delicate situations when children are involved, the whole community garden episode and our condominium living frustrations got me thinking about a class I took in college.  The class was offered through the philosophy department and was centered on the concept of “Community.”  It sounds like one of those superfluous, basket-weaving-esque courses that would guarantee all participants an A+, but in fact, it was one of the more challenging and interesting courses I took in my four years of college.  We were assigned a TON of very thought-provoking readings that delved into the role of community in education, social services, healthcare, law, and negotiating and resolving conflicts between groups of people when their religious, economic, and socio-cultural mores clashed.  And of course, any class on Community HAS to include reading by Wendell Berry.  We read “Sex, Economy, Freedom, & Community,” a collection of essays dealing with our relationship to the land, the benefits of supporting a local economy, and the consequences of becoming further removed from the process of making our own food:

I haven’t read this collection of essays since college (about 8 years ago), but I am beginning to wonder what Wendell Berry would say about the theft of food from a community garden plot.  Would he say that it is a small price to pay for the privilege of growing one’s own food?  Would he say that theft, even in a community garden, goes against the spirit of sustainability and helping your garden neighbors?  I need to remember who I lent my copy of this book to, because now I’m feeling antsy to revisit some of these issues, especially in light of our experiences with the community garden.

Please turn off your shitty music.  It keeps waking up my baby.  And it is annoying the shit out of me.  Listening to hip-hop music which samples Phil Collins is like having my eyeballs gouged out with a toothpick.  And even this does not do the unpleasantness that my ears are currently experiencing any justice.

Some complete asshole stole the rest of our butternut squash from our garden.  There were about 10 really big butternuts that I had planned to harvest today.  We feed our family from our garden, so we don’t take the theft lightly.  So much for baby food for our little guy.  Asshole.  

We’ve decided that we’re not doing the community garden anymore.  It was great while it lasted, but this last event was really the straw that broke the camel’s back.  I had to work so hard even to make it to the garden all summer long.  I had to nurse my hefty baby while standing up in the hot sun.  I had to buckle and unbuckle the carseat and stroller straps so many times just to spend 10 minutes weeding.  And now some asshole comes along and steals from us.  I know that complaining about it isn’t going to fix the situation, but I will feel better just getting it out.  

God help the next moron that asks me for money on Church Street.

We got very lucky and H recovered from his semi-cold within 24 hours.  Over the weekend we had a nice, but as always, too short, visit with Oma and Grandpa.  We visited the Burlington Farmer’s Market, got some hot chocolate, went out for breakfast, and took a stroll to North Beach, where Holden got to use one of the playground swings for the first time.  He’s still kind of little to be using the swings (it clearly states on the back of the swing that it is intended for infants no younger than 9 months and must be used with adult “super vision.”)  Holden wears 9 month onesies and I wear corrective lenses, so I think we meet the criteria required for responsible use of the playground swings.

Here’s H looking coy:

And as always, garnering much adoration from Oma and Grandpa (and Papa too):

On Saturday night we had dinner with our pals Adam & Sue.  After dinner, we took our beer and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies outside.  We gathered around the chiminea to enjoy the warmth of the fire and catch occasional glimpses of the stars through the patchwork of clouds above us.  It was as close to camping as Holden will get this season.  We are contemplating a wintertime camping trip in one of the cabins owned by an outing club to which I used to have a membership.  The cabins typically sleep at least 10 people and are often located near snowshoe/hiking trails.  A few years ago, Rob and I stayed at this cabin: 

We ended up leaving early because we both got sick after our first night in the cabin.  Hopefully we’ll have better luck with camping this next click around.

Other than thoroughly enjoying the fall, we have been focused on the move that our family will likely make within the next 6-12 months.  Not only have we made our peace with this, but I think we are actually looking forward to it.  I think that it is a good time for us, personally and professionally, to move onto new things.  It is looking more and more likely that we will end up in Boston, and we are getting really excited by the prospect of living close to the subway and still being able to get away with only having one car.  And while the housing market may make it a little more difficult for us to unload our condo, it will make it a little easier for us to find a home in Boston.  We are excited about the prospect of having a little yard where we can garden instead of having to drive to a community garden, a process that has become increasingly complicated with an infant.  We are excited about not having to manage a condo association anymore, and mostly not having to deal with the noise and commotion that seems to be almost constantly emanating from our downstairs neighbor.  And a dishwasher.  I am excited about having a dishwasher.  That will be the real deal breaker.  I’m not worried about making friends in Boston.  One of my former college roommates lives in Boston, and she has been giving us some expert advice on the good places to look for housing.  Plus we know this guy from our days of frequenting the Half Lounge on Church Street in Burlington.  Plus, I’m sure we’ll meet people in our neighborhood and people geeks from my new, hypothetical job.  I am hopeful, optimistic, excited, ready, and overdue for this change and I am confident that I can do at least a decent job with a job talk if I can get my foot in the door for an interview.  My fingers are crossed like they never have been before.