October 19, 2005
Conspicuous in my absence
Give me a break!
Tuesday, 10/18/2005, I played hooky. Everyone is allowed a day to play hooky. In high school, my mother allowed it every once in a while. I could sleep in and call it a "mental health day."
Well, now that we're adults, we're still allowed. It so happens, however, that this mental health day coincided with the second day of the 150th meeting of the Acoustical Society of America. Yes, I skipped. I didn't show. I played hooky. Satisfied? I taught, I went briefly to the gym, I picked Stefan Frisch up at the airport, we drove to Stillwater to see his childhood home, we had dinner at Mai Village in St. Paul, we had coffee, and we had an early night. Our only crime was not attending the ASA meeting.
Trust me, I paid for it.
On Wednesday, Ann Bradlow saw me at the ASA and immediately pounced. Evidently, my absence had been conspicuous. So very, very sorry! As much as I love spending time with Ann Bradlow—and trust me, I do—my mental health, and the opportunity to spend time with an old friend, was paramount. Is that so awful? The problem came when others (many!) started mentioning how conspicuous my absence was. Before the day's end no fewer than a dozen had commented on how conspicuous my absence on Tuesday, 10/18 was. A dozen! This is not hyperbole! A do-zen. 12.
Deal with it.
October 04, 2005
Science as a Process
This is getting embarrassing.
As an Associate Editor for the language section of the Journal of Speech, Language, and Hearing Research, I have the very important responsibility of coordinating the peer review process for the articles that the editor assigns to me. I take the process of peer review extremely seriously. I view science as a collective social activity, engaged in by a community focused on solving a common problem. I really got a good sense of this by reading Science as a Process, by David Hull, first recommended to me by Janet Pierrehumbert. I highly recommend the book, and I think that all scholars should have a philosophy of science and read books in the philosophy of science. Rigorous, fair, and just peer review is a cornerstone of a scientific community. Being an AE has given me the opportunity to play an important role in the community of science. It is an honor and a privilege, and it has given me the opportunity to interact with some of the brightest scholars in speech and language sciences and disorders. Reading manuscripts and coordinating reviews has made me a better scholar and, hopefully, a better mentor to my students.
Why am I embarrassed, then?
I'm embarrassed because not once, not twice, but thrice (yes, thrice!) an author or reviewer has sent me an E-mail about a manuscript and ended it with "great blog. Cute cat." What am I, an old maid? Sheesh! My dad is coming this weekend and bringing pictures from my sister's wedding, at which point I'm going to finally have pictures of me and my beau Kevin. I'm not an old maid. I am, however, starting to give the impression of being a creepy cat person. I am a serious scientist! I take my job seriously and greatly appreciate the opportunity to participate in the collective social activity that is scholarship. I am not a creepy cat person.
I promise a meaty, content-rich blog on intonational meaning. This week. Nothing about my cat.
-Ben Munson
P.S. Look at little woogums helping her daddy write his blog! She's sho shweet.
