I'm not sure what I was thinking, somehow planning to post my response to Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In today. I must have forgotten how quickly and completely the term teaching schedule swallows me. That post is coming, to be sure, but it's taking longer than I thought to write it, squeezing out a paragraph here, a sentence there, then changing my mind and erasing two sentences the next time I sit at the keyboard.
I'm enjoying carrying the ideas around with me, though, and I look forward to discussing them with you. I'm juggling them, in the meantime, with guiding my first-year students through Nicholas Carr's The Shallows, a provocative discussion of What, as his sub-title says, the Internet Is Doing to our Brains. Not surprisingly, I don't have enough time to chat about that either.
But I do have time to share a chuckle. The photo above is one I snapped in a small restaurant across from the train station in Narbonne, one of the stations we had to change trains at on our trip from Barcelona to Bordeaux. Paul is quite sure it was one of the worst meals he's ever paid for. I wouldn't be as harsh, but it was clear much of the menu was waiting in the freezer for the microwave. Yes, sadly, even in Europe . . .
This isn't to say it wasn't worth leaving the train station for, though. After all, we gained "Squids to the Roman" as a new all-purpose rallying cry. As opposed to Calamari, Roman-style, this translation turns a humdrum menu item into pure gold, even for those of us who avoid the actual platter. The "balls of meat" have a certain appeal as well. Or not.
So I'm wishing you a Happy Wednesday. And Squids to the Roman, whatever that might mean in your life. Oh, and if you have any priceless translations you've gleaned on your travels, do share. I always love your comments.