…or maybe I should say Schweiz, since I’m headed to Berne, the capital, which my cloud atlas claims lies in the German part. I’ll be doing a little trout fishing there.
Now, some of our blog readers are curious folk, and they are wondering why I am preparing to jet away from scenic H2lieu in the middle of a work week. “Shouldn’t this fellow be leading a discussion somewhere, perhaps in a classroom, you know, with the paying customers, i.e., students?” I’m sort of on board with this idea of my generalized ethical failure, as I sip on a $4 airport coffee and watch a series of planes fly in and out of JFK, where I am languishing amongst the other residents of airport purgatory (my flight is not for three hours, courtesy of American Airlines). I mean, I’d never deny I have a great and probably undeserved gig as Professor in the Faculty of Occasionally Useful Knowledge.
But I have to say in my defence that when the Swiss call, you just go. The Swiss are the secret rulers of the world: I mean, seriously, they’ve got deep pockets, hollowed out mountains full of munitions and warcraft, and they make an indispensable cheese.
Anyway, if you must know, I don’t teach again til next Monday, so everybody just relax! Besides, I’m going to be opening a 55 gallon drum of Brand UW all over those benighted Bernese. Are you again curious, but this time in a good way, without that officious presumption of my irresponsibility? Then stay tuned: I’ll be blogging this road trip right through to the bitter end. You’ll soon discover that trout fishing in Switzerland isn’t anything like what it sounds.