"Sorry for everything; you're still the best..."

Something horrible happened.

http://www.courier-journal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070627/ZONE07/70627011

So it goes.

I was going to post photos of a couple of recently completed knitting projects, but then I read this:

Kurt Vonnegut, Writer of Classics of the American Counterculture, Dies at 84

And now I'm thinking about a presentation on Cat's Cradle Art Black and I did in high school. We dressed as beat poets and Art played bongos as I recited some of Bokonon's calypsos; it was the highlight of eleventh-grade English for me. (Our teacher had never heard of Kurt Vonnegut -- can you believe that? Shame on you, Mrs. Maggard.) At some point, either that year or the next, some friends and I went to Actors Theatre to watch him give a reading (the content of which later ended up as part of Timequake). We tried really hard to meet him afterwards, and his assistant was apologetic as she explained that while he loved meeting with young people, it was late and he was very tired. I've always regretted that.

So, Kurt Vonnegut is dead. Wouldn't it be fantastic if he could tell us what happens next?

Well, it's been a long week. I've been into campus a few times, but it's hard to concentrate on doing anything once I'm there. Maybe that'll get better once classes begin next week and there are more people around and things seem a little more normal.

Dr. Jack's wife and children are still hospitalized, but the girls may be released soon. So that's a bit of good news.

I had a couple of good conversations today. I met with the graduate dean (also a biologist with an appointment in my department) to talk about where my research and program might go from here. I still feel like things are up in the air, but I'm slightly more confident about where they might land. My broader ecological interests are still intact (community structure and function, effects of urbanization), but I may have to be flexible when it comes to what I want to use to answer those questions (spring systems, biofilms).

I also spoke with a professor on my doctoral committee who expressed to me the department's commitment to doing everything they can to ensure that all of us -- there are over a dozen of us in Dr. Jack's lab -- get the resources and support we need to complete our programs, if that's what we want to do. "You guys weren't just his students... You're our students, too." I know that this is a really hard time for the faculty as well; it's remarkable how everyone's pulling together to help each other out.

The collaborative nature of science is something I really like, but when something like this happens, it can have a huge effect on so many people in addition friends and family: students, colleagues, graduate committees at other institutions, co-investigators on grants, engineers, educators... I guess that's what community's all about, though, and it does help when you're not alone.

The past twenty-four hours have been rough: My doctoral advisor, Dr. Jeff Jack, was killed in a car crash yesterday afternoon. His wife and two daughters are still in the hospital. If you're reading this, please keep the Jack family in your thoughts.

(Here's a short news item about the accident.)