A Burd's eye view of Austin By Patrick George AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF 1 Thursday, July 19, 2007 It's a 3 1/2-mile walk between Gene Burd's apartment near Barton Springs Road and his office on the University of Texas campus, a walk that he makes twice a day. He's easy to spot on downtown streets, because Burd hoofs his daily commute at a brisk pace that belies his 76 years. A compactly built man with thinning white hair, Burd has walked the same route – with only slight variations – since he started teaching journalism at UT in 1972. He eschews cars, believing they have a negative effect on the urban environment. He walks to the doctor, to the grocery store and to work. He never uses elevators because "you meet a better class of people" on staircases, he says. A reporter since 1953 and teacher since 1959, Burd has a gentle, high-pitched voice and often holds his hand over his mouth when he talks, as if telling a secret. His office is so full of papers and books stacked to the ceiling that it's nearly impossible to step inside. He's also famously frugal – so much so that in 2004, he used more than $1 million of his own money, most of it just from saving up his paychecks and investments, to establish a foundation which gives financial awards to journalists and researchers who specialize in city planning, architecture, environmental issues and other urban topics. He has since given the foundation $25,000 for operational costs. While Burd expects that many people think of him as "that crazy old guy who walks everywhere," his daily walk gives him a chance to observe his city as it grows and changes. He worked as a newspaper reporter in several cities before earning a doctorate in urban media studies from Northwestern University in Chicago and joining the UT faculty. Though he now has the longest tenure in the journalism school, Burd is still an associate professor and his $73,779 annual salary ranks beneath many younger peers. While he says that he's "a little bitter" about that, he has nonetheless made a lasting impression on many of his students. "He's a wonderful professor who really understands journalism and its course over time," said Megan Larson, a recent graduate and former student of Burd's. "One thing he told us was that if you want to be a good writer, you have to know a little bit about everything," said Dennis Killian, another former student. A penny saved It's Burd's frugality that has allowed him to save up and give to causes he cares about. He lives unassumingly in a modest, low-rent South Austin apartment where he's lived since 1999. He seldom buys new clothes. Those New Balance shoes? He found them in the trash somewhere. He rarely goes out to eat and doesn't have a car. Never married, he says 1 growing up in rural poverty taught him to be a good saver. He says he invests conservatively and wisely. While Burd wouldn't divulge his exact financial status, he said he is "not at all broke" even after his donations. Much of it comes from cashing in retirement funds he doesn't think he'll use – as long as he's physically and mentally healthy, he doesn't plan on retiring, or ending his twice-daily trek across town. "Each year, it gets a little more difficult for me," Burd says. "But I just keep on going." Meanwhile, all this giving has brought him more attention than he bargained for, he said. While the $1 million donation might have come as a total shock to some, those who know Burd well say they suspected he might have had something like this up his sleeve all along. "I once said to him, 'Burd, I'll bet you've got a million bucks stashed away somewhere,' " said Bob Mann, a lecturer at the journalism school. "He would never spend it on himself. He's extremely generous." "I guess I'm a miser, but I try to share with others," Burd says. "I never went into journalism or teaching to make money." UT – University of Texas New Balance – prestižna robna marka sportske obuće (razmislite može li se New Balance izostaviti u prevodu) Pronañite značenje sledećih reči/idioma (u slengu): buck, quid, lolly, cash cow, dinero, dough, fat cat, bread, sponger, freeloader. Potražite u rečnicima sledeće reči i izraze i razmislite kako biste ih mogli prevesti: a penny for your thoughts, to cost an arm and a leg, to make ends meet, to be paid peanuts, money for jam/old rope, to see the colour of someone’s money, money is no object, in for a penny, in for a pound, not have two pennies to rub together, to spend a penny, money makes the mare go, to earn an honest penny, to feather one’s nest, to live beyond one’s means. Gene Burd Prevedite sledeće rečenice : 1. When I was a student I lived on a shoestring . 2. The house is lovely and spacious, but on the other side of the coin is that it is far from the shops and schools. 3. We were so hard up we had to sleep in the car. 4. There was a celebration lunch for the group and Bill picked up the tab . 5. I need $100 to keep my head above water . Zanimljivi linkovi: http://www.businessballs.com/moneyslanghistory.htm http://www.learn-english-today.com/idioms/idiom-categories/money-idioms.htm 2 Teacher Man By Frank McCourt 2 If I knew anything about Sigmund Freud and psychoanalysis I'd be able to trace all my troubles to my miserable childhood in Ireland. That miserable childhood deprived me of self-esteem, triggered spasms of self pity, paralyzed my emotions, made me cranky, envious and disrespectful of authority, retarded my development, crippled my doings with the opposite sex, kept me from rising in the world and made me unfit, almost, for human society. How I became a teacher at all and remained one is a miracle and I have to give myself full marks for surviving all those years in the classrooms of New York. There should be a medal for people who survive miserable childhoods and become teachers, and I should be first in line for the medal and whatever bars might be appended for ensuing miseries. I could lay blame. The miserable childhood doesn't simply happen. It is brought about. There are dark forces. If I am to lay blame it is in a spirit of forgiveness. Therefore, I forgive the following: Pope Pius XII; the English in general and King George VI in particular; Cardinal MacRory, who ruled Ireland when I was a child; the bishop of Limerick, who seemed to think everything was sinful; Eamonn De Valera, former prime minister and president of Ireland. Mr. De Valera was a half-Spanish Gaelic fanatic who directed teachers all over Ireland to beat the native tongue into us and natural curiosity out of us. He caused us hours of misery. He was aloof and indifferent to the black and blue welts raised by schoolmaster sticks on various parts of our young bodies. I forgive, also, the priest who drove me from the confessional when I admitted to sins of self-abuse and self-pollution and penny thieveries from my mother's purse. He said I did not show a proper spirit of repentance, especially in the matter of the flesh. And even though he had hit that nail right on the head, his refusal to grant me absolution put my soul in such peril that if I had been flattened by a truck outside the church he would have been responsible for my eternal damnation. I forgive various bullying schoolmasters for pulling me out of my seat by the sideburns, for walloping me regularly with stick, strap and cane when I stumbled over answers in the catechism or when in my head I couldn't divide 937 by 739. I was told by my parents and other adults it was all for my own good. I forgive them for those whopping hypocrisies and wonder where they are at this moment. Heaven? Hell? Purgatory, if it still exists? I can even forgive myself, though when I look back at various stages of my life, I groan. What an idiot. What timidities. What stupidities. What indecisions and flounderings. But then I take another look. I had spent childhood and adolescence examining my conscience and finding myself in a perpetual state of sin. That was the training, the brainwashing, the conditioning and it discouraged smugness, especially among the sinning class. Now I think it time to give myself credit for at least one virtue: doggedness. Not as glamorous as ambition or talent or intellect or charm, but still the one thing that got me through the days and nights. F. Scott Fitzgerald said that in American lives there are no second acts. He simply did not live long enough. In my case he was wrong. 3 When I taught in New York City high schools for thirty years no one but my students paid me a scrap of attention. In the world outside the school I was invisible. Then I wrote a book about my childhood and became mick of the moment. I hoped the book would explain family history to McCourt children and grandchildren. I hoped it might sell a few hundred copies and I might be invited to have discussions with book clubs.