Friday percussion interlude

I have a gong in my office. Just a small one – I used to use it for undergraduate research presentations in my history methods class. The gong would be given to the volunteer timekeeper, whose job it was to whack it when the presenter’s time was up. I had one group who insisted on being “gonged in” as well at the beginning of each of their talks.

Today in our faculty meeting, when discussing job talks (we are running two searches) and how to keep candidates within their allotted time:

Colleague: we need a gong!

Me: [I had not actually been waiting for this moment for years, but I felt like I should have been] I have a gong.

Chair: that’d end up in the wiki for sure.

(There is a history job search wiki where throughout the hiring cycle people post which searches have called people for interviews, which have done campus visits, etc. – it’s basically a place to find out you’ve been rejected. And a fair amount of dirt gets posted too. Anonymously, of course.)

But our chair stopped by my office later: “OK, let’s see the gong.”