Just Finally Married

Wedding of Sallie Goetsch and Stefan (Stjepan) Didak, September 13, 2011

Wedding of Sallie Goetsch and Stefan (Stjepan) Didak, September 13, 2011

Yes, the World’s Longest Engagement is finally over. Stefan and I were married September 13th at approximately 10 AM at the County Clerk’s office in Martinez, California. We had been engaged since April 2, 1995. We started filing paperwork for our fiancé visa in August, 2010. (And now that we’re married, there’s more paperwork to file for the Adjustment of Status, work permit, etc.)

The ceremony was actually rather touching, a secularized version of the familiar vows from the Book of Common Prayer. Stefan attempted to promise “for richer and still richer,” but though we’d all like that, the Deputy Commissioner wasn’t having it.

Our one wedding photo was taken by our one witness, my former housemate, with my Nikon P100. Stefan’s Big Lenses are still in Holland, awaiting his green card and the trip back to retrieve his office.

Oakley? Where’s Oakley?

That’s what most of my friends asked when I told them I was moving here.

I  have to admit, I hadn’t heard of Oakley, myself. I wasn’t that familiar with East Contra Costa County. I’d expressed reluctance at the idea of moving out to the suburbs when Stefan first proposed it. It would be hot. It would be isolated. We wouldn’t be able to walk anywhere. It would take forever to drive to anyplace we were accustomed to going.

All those things are true.

So is the fact that we can get a gorgeous 3-bedroom, 2.5-bath house with washer/dryer hookups in the garage for barely more than we had to pay to live in a run-down firetrap of a 2-bed, 1-bath apartment in a four-plex in El Cerrito. I haven’t had a washing machine for ten years. Or a separate office. Or enough room for a dinner party. Or a guest room.

Our house in Oakley

I could live without all the driving, but apart from the construction around Somerville Ave, Highway 4 doesn’t deserve all the complaints it gets. (Have these people never driven in Southern California?) The air conditioning keeps it bearable indoors, and it is nice to see sunshine instead of fog. People are generally friendly, though the neighbors to the rear could be a reality (comedy) TV show.

As for where Oakley is, approximately halfway between San Francisco and Sacramento, on the Delta. Here’s a map. (Not to our house, but we live pretty close to the civic center and the all-important Black Bear Diner.)

An Ancient Biography, Rediscovered

3x2 Didlogo Here it is 2009, and an ego search on my name turned up an article in About.com from 1998 which included a biography of me in my then-persona as Founding and Managing Editor of Didaskalia: Ancient Theater Today. The Internet really is forever.

It might make more sense to put this on a page covering those years, except then I’d just end up waiting until I finished the site, and at this rate that will be never. I can’t even keep my professional sites up to date, never mind this one.

So I’m going to reprint this article here for people to see what I was up to in 1998. I’ve made the links live and corrected a few of them.

I fell into the Classics Vortex at 14 when I first learned Latin. I went to Brown University meaning to get a degree in psychology and graduated with an AB in Classics. I’d spent 2 years as president of the Classics Club and added Greek to my Latin. I also spent a term at the Intercollegiate Center for Classical Studies in Rome (known familiarly as the Centro). The teaching wasn’t up to Brown’s standards, but we got to see everything.

That summer I spent 6 weeks in Greece and had the opportunity to see a play (Oedipus Tyrannos , as it happens, done by the Open Theater) in the theater at Epidavros. The moon was just rising over the back of the theatron as the show closed. From that time on I was increasingly interested in ancient theater. I wrote my senior thesis about the character of Klytaimnestra in Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Seneca, Giraudoux, Sartre, and O’Neill.

It was at the University of Michigan, where I was a PhD student, that I began translating and directing ancient plays (I had done a bit of acting in them as an undergrad, and my interest in theater goes back to early childhood). The first was Auricula Meretricula, a simplified Roman comedy written by a couple of classicists to make teaching Latin more fun. I’d first read it when I was 15. It was performed in Latin with a cast who knew no Latin for an audience only half of whom knew Latin—with a budget of $50. It was enough of a success to encourage me to proceed on to tragedy.

I had spent the summer of 1990 living in Nafplion, Greece, and studying the theatrical festival at Epidavros, interviewing as many of the directors as would talk to me. (About half of them, and usually in Modern Greek, which I had squeezed into my undergraduate schedule.) While there I made the translation of Aeschylus’ Eumenides which I directed (and produced, and house-managed, and board-opped, and designed costumes for) in November of 1991. This was enough of a success that even my department began to be interested in production. (My supervisor’s first words on the subject were “I’ve never seen a production of a Greek tragedy from which I learned anything.”)

In 1993 I collaborated with Kate Mendeloff of U-M’s Residential College Drama Program (and holder of an MFA in directing from Yale) on a production of Euripides’ Bacchae. I was then a fellow at the Institute for the Humanities, which helped immeasurably with both funding and publicity. In my off hours I was writing my dissertation, on Eumenides. Bacchae was a commercial as well as critical success. I did a presentation on it at the King’s College London conference on “Tragedy and the Tragic.”

I also spent a lot of time traveling the US to see productions of ancient plays, including Mnouchkine’s Les Atrides. I made contact with a number of scholars in the field (there aren’t that many of us), most especially Oliver Taplin. And when he suggested that there ought to be an electronic newsletter to publicize modern productions of Greek plays, a colleague nominated me.

I didn’t know much about computers at the time beyond word processing and basic e-mail—and the U-M e-mail system was hideously primitive. The WWW didn’t really exist yet. But even in ASCII format for ftp, the Internet was the best way to distribute listings, etc (it was my idea to include reviews and features) to people who were widely scattered across the globe. (There’s a fairly dense concentration of them in Britain, which is part of why I moved here, but otherwise it’s much a matter of one or two in the biggest departments—a couple on each coast of the US, a couple in South Africa, a scattering across Australia and Canada, etc.)

We had published three issues when I moved to Britain. Most of the technical stuff was handled by my co-editors, Ian Worthington and Peter Toohey, who had founded Electronic Antiquity (still an ftp journal) about a year earlier. I had discovered the WWW by then and was definitely interested in moving Did onto it—theatrical production is very hard to discuss without pictures. I got a lot of help from Warwick’s Computing Services department, and our first HTML issue went out in December of 1994.

I began to get more and more ideas for the website, which eventually developed a fairly dense core of information in addition to the published issues—which got to be published less and less often. Like many academics, I had vastly underestimated how much work was involved in running an electronic journal. Though there are no printing and distribution costs (within a university), the labor involved in creating the thing is just as great. I’ve never been paid for my work on Did and my editorial board contributes primarily in the area of refereeing articles. I’m trying to work out ways of delegating markup and other tasks which I don’t really have to do myself—there’s just no one else to do them at the moment. I’ve gotten to the point where I would happily consider a commercial sponsor.

I’ve been amazed at the range of people who use Didaskalia. Despite its faltering condition it is still very popular. I get enquiries from all over the world on quite a variety of subjects. Some of the features I’ve added have been for the benefit of my own students (I have been teaching Ancient Theatre on the Modern Stage and Greek Tragedy in the School of Theatre Studies since 1995/6).

Warwick’s library isn’t all that strong in Classics, and the WWW has been a good way of expanding the research materials available to my students. And to other people’s students. I’ve gotten so much into the habit of doing research on the WWW that I sometimes forget what useful books I own.

Article written by Nemesis Gill.

It feels like a lot more than 11 years have passed since that interview. It was only a few months later that I moved back to the United States. Not long after that, I turned over the job of Man
aging Editor to Hugh Denard, and I’ve had little to do with Didaskalia since then, unless specifically asked for input.

Editorial Photo of Sallie Goetsch from 1993, taken by the Smith brothersSomeone phoned me about a month ago to ask if I could help track down Dorpfeld’s original drawings of the skene. Um, no. After 11 years, even the references I can remember are out of date, though of course Dorpfeld’s drawings pre-date my entry into the field of Classics, never mind my exit from it. My Greek and Latin are a bit rusty, though I still occasionally have a use for my linguistic skills. I don’t see myself heading back to academentia anytime soon.

But yes, I really did have this photo on my bio page as editor. And no, unlike many of the images you’ll see of the current Sallie, it hasn’t been digitally enhanced. It was taken when I was 26, just after the Bacchae production, before I met Stefan and long before I’d heard of Photoshop. I’ve obviously gotten more conservative as I’ve aged, because I hesitate to use a photo of me in an off-the-shoulder dress for professional purposes these days.

I Actually Won Something!

Post Meridian D'jour Gift Certificate

This evening I went to a mixer sponsored by the El Cerrito Chamber of Commerce sponsored at the darling D’jour Floral and Antiques shop. (I must take my mother there when she next visits; it has a very high Cute quotient.) I’ve been attending more Chamber events in the past few months, as I’m going to be doing some podcasting work with them, and I’m enjoying getting to know local business owners.

Yes, I have lived and worked in El Cerrito since 2001. No, it’s not that big a town. Yet for most of this time I’ve had no idea who the people running for city council were, and there are a lot of shops I’ve never been in. This might just possibly have something to do with working out of my home and spending most of my time working. (Oh, and shopping online a lot.)

Anyway, back to the party. Scarcely had I set foot in the door when I was offered raffle tickets. Raffles are popular with the ECCC. I had no idea what they were raffling off, but I bought a ticket anyway.

To my great astonishment, I won the top prize of the evening: dinner at the Post Meridian restaurant in Kensington and a dozen roses from D’jour. (The Kensington in question, for non-local readers, is not the posh suburb of London but the posh neighborhood separating the Berkeley hills from the El Cerrito hills.) It used to be the Kensington Bistro. I’ve never been in there, either.

The cuisine is “California French,” and looks a trifle challenging for someone who can’t have grain, sugar, cream, or alcohol, but the head chef is delightful and I’m sure we’ll work it out.

The dinner-and-roses combo is meant for Valentine’s Day, but as my sweetie won’t be here again until late spring at least, we’ll just have to find a different occasion.

I Swear My Next Printer Will Be an HP

artisan-800 There are many things I love about the Epson Artisan 800 all-in-one I bought at the end of 2008. I love the card reader for transferring images and videos from assorted cameras. I love the sheet-fed scanner. I love the fact that it connects to the network and not my overloaded USB hubs. I love the CD/DVD printer. I love the print quality, which is astonishing.

And I hate the fact that it simply doesn’t want to feed 90% of the custom papers designed for inkjets, in particular the greeting cards I like to make for friends and family. (Yes, I send a lot of e-cards, but I do send printed cards, too. Even to people with e-mail addresses.)

The first side of the card usually prints. But when I follow the handy directions for manual duplexing (since I didn’t buy the optional auto-duplex module), the printer just refuses to feed the paper. To add insult to injury, the error message accompanying the earsplitting beep says “The printer has fed multiple sheets. Check the output tray”—WTF does that have to do with it?—“and press Start.”

I’ve checked everywhere there is to check. And yes, the printer is set to take a heavier weight of paper—in the preferences panel, because there’s nowhere physical to set that kind of thing, as with my old straight-path Epson 1280.

I’ve had Epson printers for years, and been a die-hard fan, but enough is enough. The next printer I get will be an HP. They actually design their printers to work with the wide variety of inkjet papers out there.

The Amazing Computing Abilities of Felines

Cat sleeping on laptop This is not the post I was going to write today—never mind the post I was going to write a couple of weeks ago, that got delayed due to the way client work almost inevitably takes precedence over everything else.

But the cat discovered something I didn’t know Windows could do. The cat is not my cat, though I am one of her human minions, and she considers my laptops (both the one I use and the one my housemate uses) nice, cozy resting places.

If I’m inattentive enough to leave the machine open when I go out of the room, this is what I come back to find: one cat on the keyboard (frequently leaving particles of kitty litter underneath the keys, thank you very much) and several programs running that I didn’t have open when I left. If you look closely at the image, you’ll see the calculator accessory and Windows Media Player, neither of which I ever use.

Turning off the “Num Lock” key and even powering the machine down entirely are old tricks. Today there was a new one: setting the transparency of my Outlook window to 60%.

I didn’t even know that windows in Windows had transparency settings. I mean, what would you want them for? If you want to see something else, minimize the window, move it, resize it, or Alt-Tab.

Fortunately, I know how to right-click in the Task Bar, so I sorted the problem out after only a little head-scratching.

And my ingenious housemate discovered that if I only close the laptop part of the way, it won’t go into hibernation. (Okay, I knew that, but never thought to apply it to times when I leave the room for too brief a period to want to shut the machine down completely.)

Keep the cat out of the room? You have to be joking.

Candy-Apple Red

candy-apple-1 My naturally-dishwater hair has a curious property. While it accepts highlighting in an entirely normal fashion, attempts to apply darker colors never come out as dark as they’re intended to. The shade my brilliant hairdresser actually applied is a sort of deep burgundy. This, as you see, is not the color my hair turned.

But you know what? I love it. Though I’ll no doubt have a heart attack when I wake up and look in the mirror tomorrow morning, and I’m sure people will be saying “Oh, my God” for days.

(The setting sun makes the color look more orange than it is—it actually has decidedly pink overtones, hence my conclusion that my hair is now candy-apple red.)