Update

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 Once upon a time , someone asked me if I would be happy working a job that was not at the university. Since my position at the university closed in 2020, I found myself doing exactly that— working in jobs not at the university. It has been a very difficult transition.  Recently, things shifted quickly and in unexpected ways. The short version is that I am leaving the hotel which I am currently working, having taken a position at another.  The longer version of the story is that I stopped by to see my good friend and former GM at his new hotel. While I was visiting with him, one of the owners came out and introduced himself and we got to talking. After a few minutes, he said he wanted me to meet his brother. Our conversation turned into a job interview and 48 hours later I accepted a new position as front desk, manager and assistant operations manager. After some negotiating, we reached an agreement and I start my new position on April 9. It’s a much nicer hotel and these...

Americans: Natural-born Hunters?

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"We have inherited many attitudes from our recent ancestors who wrestled this continent as Jacob wrestled the angel, and the pioneers won. From them we take a belief that every American is a natural-born hunter. And every fall a great number of men set out to prove that without talent, training, knowledge, or practice they are dead shots with rifle or shotgun. The results are horrid . . . .

If I were hungry, I would happily hunt anything that runs or crawls or flies, even relatives, and tear them down with my teeth. But it isn't hunger that drives millions of armed American males into forests and hills every autumn . . . . Somehow the hunting process has to do with masculinity, but I don't quite know how. I know there are any number of good and efficient hunters who know what they are doing; but many more are overweight gentlemen, primed with whiskey and armed with high-powered rifles. They shoot at anything that moves or looks like it might, and their success in killing one another may well prevent a population explosion . . . .

A farmer in upstate New York painted the word cow in big black letters on both sides of his white bossy but the hunters shot it anyway." (Steinbeck, "Travels With Charley", pp. 56-57)

photo credit: factoid news

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