Peter Singer lecture

I am so clueless. Why did I not think to bring my Singer books to be signed? Or bring some money to purchase one of his newest books? I've never been the type of person to seek signed copies of anything, but I don't know, I think I would have liked to have a copy of Rethinking Life and Death" signed by the author.

My photos of the author came out poorly, so all you get is a photo of his books. It's time for a new camera, but I'm afraid it will have to wait.

So, the lecture was very good. Peter Singer is certainly an excellent teacher. This presentation was a more general discussion than I had expected. Having delved through all but his most recent books, I had hoped to have had to lean forward and frown thoughtfully in concentration a bit more (yes, I am totally starved for challenging education--my brain craves some serious exercise). I think I was hoping for a master class rather than a public lecture, which is a bit unrealistic, I suppose, when there are hundreds of people in the room.

While the audience was settling itself, I was lucky enough to be spotted by Lee Bailey, a former professor and now friend, so I had good company instead of being alone in the audience.

Singer addressed the choices we make about what we eat, and the impact our food production. He said "you'll notice I provided information, but did not provide answers." And indeed, this was an illustrative lecture concerning the impacts of factory farming on animals and the environment, and an examination of other choices we might make, to purchase organic foods, to choose a vegetarian or vegan diet, to purchase locally produced foods (whether animal or vegetable), and, finally, to eat less (what a novel thought in America! Eat LESS!).

He pointed out that what we generally assume consumes fewer resources may not. Tomatoes raised in a northeastern greenhouse in May or June may actually use more energy than tomatoes trucked up from sunny Florida. A response: perhaps locavores must sacrifice eating tomatoes until late July when they finally ripen in our home valleys. If we choose to "eat local" and also eat with the least environmental impact, we will also need to eat "in season."

Upon arriving home I cracked open the door to our unheated Great Room and picked my Singer books off the stone-cold book shelves. When they thaw out, perhaps by the weekend (smile), I shall settle in for a good read.

Off topic note: I arrived early, concerned that the Emerson Suites might be overcrowded, but I learned I had time to kill so I wandered the campus a bit. My first surprise was the large number of students striding toward the Campus Center. The Center (Egbert Union, when I was a student) had been a vibrant public space when I took classes in the 80s. After its renovation in 1987 or so, it became more sterile. The dark old pub and the cramped snack bar were replaced by spaces with a more Howard Johnsons-type feel, and the main Union, which used to be so full you tripped over fellow students, become remote and echoing.

These spaces were recently renovated yet again, and wireless is available. They ditched the small modular couches in the main area--useless things--and replaced them with tables and chairs, where students were working tonight. The lounges were ALL full with evening student events, the TV lounge was gone -- replaced by a classroom (this caused me an odd twinge of pain -- I'd watched the towers fall on 9/11 in that dark lounge with other staff and students). The snack bar, where I finally wandered, was absolutely teeming with working students. An open mike poetry night was taking place. It exhibited a spontaneity that had never existed during either my student or employee years.

And the "bar" (the failed replacement for the old pub) was serving coffee (as it had when I was an employee--during the day, that is) and it was OPEN. At NIGHT. What a novel thought, that students might want coffee in their snack bar in the evening when they studied.

This is not the Ithaca College I knew three years ago. And this is a good thing.