the Little Rock sojourn
So we spent ten days more or less on the road, going up to Fargo for Mister Husband’s talk at the Linguistic Circle of Manitoba and North Dakota conference (which I didn’t attend), then back to teach, and then down to Little Rock for Feminisms and Rhetorics. The second part of that was a sprint, driving down into increasingly hotter weather and a veil of green, arriving late Thursday, then leaving mid-day Saturday and heading back up. One morning in Fargo, I put off shooting in favor of an hour drinking diner coffee because it was so nippy outside. The tree outside our bedroom had already turned brilliant yellow, and I was wearing sweaters to night lectures. When I called Mom during my packing to ask if I could get away with wearing a light wool suit down there, she laughed. “Well, what’s the appropriate level of clothing?” I asked. “Nekkid,” she replied. So I packed up a summer conference outfit, and it was the right thing. Except for the fact that it was black, and I roasted in the sun late one afternoon in the 90 degree heat while waiting for Mister Husband to get the car.
Back in St. Paul last night, I wore a coat on my walk to Matt’s talk and wished I had brought a hat. Earlier I had driven to an appointment in the rain, over bright leaves blown across the pavement.
Feminisms and Rhetorics was great, and seemed to run like clockwork. The only possible complaint I’ve heard was about the lack of A/V technology. Barb did a great job putting everything together, and I’m glad to see so many people giving her props on the FemRhet listserv.
I remember wandering around CCCC with Scott back in 2004, when he was fresh out of grad school, and him commenting that it was the first conference that really felt like a reunion for him. This is the first one that felt that way for me. I got to see folks from my Master’s program as well as people from Minnesota who have moved on to the professoriate and folks I know from various other places, and it was great. I got to introduce my old colleague Jessica Reyman’s featured talk on “Copyright, Feminism, and Digital Discourse,” which was all kinds of smart. All of it brought the realization of what an awesome group of women are in the discipline.
Our panel centered around the theme of public trusts. I talked about Wikipedia and Jeff talked about the invisibility of women photographers in 19th century photographic parlors. Mary Jo Wiatrek-Uhlenkott talked about public breastfeeding and indecency law, and got a wonderful reception. Her paper was smart and interesting and her delivery was excellent. And it was a great topic to discuss at this sort of a conference; the Q&A was entirely about her paper. Women really do like to talk about boobs (actually, doesn’t everyone?), and smart women have some very smart things about them. The audience also consisted of quite a few women who are either currently breastfeeding or planning to in the near future. (Mary Jo leaned over to apologize for all the attention after a bit, and I was all, “Don't worry, go for it!”) It was her first conference paper, and it was awesome to see her get such a great response to it. I’m sure it won’t be the last time.
A vaguely related note: We went to the traveling Smithsonian exhibit on Jim Henson with my parents the next morning, over at the Arkansas Arts Center. (More on which later.) Afterwards, I wandered through the gift shop in search of a show catalogue. No luck, but they did have some random Henson merchandise. I ended up a stuffed Fraggle: Boober.
Going to a conference in my hometown was thoroughly odd, because I’m used to being a little bit enjoyably lost at these things, and this time I was one of the ones who knew where stuff was. Walking up the steps to the DoubleTree in downtown Little Rock gave me a flashback to the last time I was there, in 1996. Tori Amos was playing Robinson Center next door, and I was waiting out front with the rest of the faithful, lounging in the brick plaza.
Being home also meant that I got to zip off across town for lunch with my best friend Gina, who picked me up in her new itty bitty convertible with the huge motor. We only get to see each other once or twice a year lately, and we had a great conversation. (No setting stuff on fire this time, though. We took care of that back in May.) I’m hoping she’ll be able to come up here sometime during the winter.
It also meant that we got to stay with my parents and spent some time with them. We only managed dinner, breakfast, and the Arts Center, but it was so good to hang out for awhile, especially since they’re not coming up this way this fall.
Another “The Shuffle Knows” moment: Driving back past Branson, having passed the sign for Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede, her cover of Great Balls of Fire came on. It’s from a Dolly all-covers CD I found in a gas station outside Memphis after RSA 2006, and it’s mostly just Dolly and a Casio keytar, or at least that’s what it sounds like. The versions of House of the Rising Sun and Harper Valley PTA are, how shall we say, quite something else.