by J J Cohen
This evening I depart for Wales, and the New Chaucer Society Congress, where I will be presenting a paper in a "Politics of Memory" panel and hobnobbing with the Chaucerians. I have separation anxiety already, because while I am gone my son Alex departs for two weeks of sleepaway camp in the wilds of West Virginia. The minute I return, my wife leaves for a business meeting in Colorado Springs. The only Cohen staying in place over the next few weeks is poor, neglected Katherine, who will now be made to sleep in the attic and will be issued a small broom with which to sweep up after the rest of us.
The Tiny Shriner is NOT coming with me on this jaunt because I just cannot imagine a transatlantic flight with that guy -- even if some doctor would prescribe tiny Ambien for him.
Well, safe traveling, but I don't think you should leave Katherine alone in the same city as the Shriner.
Then again, you might be facing larger dangers (does this threat remind anyone else of Byatt's short story "The Thing in the Forest")
Ah, NCS. I seem to remember it, but in New York last time.
As for Tiny, I don't know -- I'd be afraid to turn a transatlantic back on him. Who knows what could happen.
He should really come to Leeds next year, though.
Karl, as the long as the Selenochlamys ysbryda, slug is happy feasting only on worms, we're good. If its diet changes to medievalists, two things will happen: (1) we will have the makings of a B-grad horror film (2) there will be a lot of job openings next year.
MKH: Tiny is coming to Leeds only if you are.
Wasn't there already a threat imposed if I don't? :)
At any rate, count me in for Leeds, and as the Tiny Shriner transportation service if need be.
The big question is why NCS always threatens its members so. In NYC, there was the probably of another White Ship disaster, averted by who knows what dark sacrifices of graduate students to the elder gods (read: Patterson and Wallace). My guess is that the natural scientists thought the medievalist diet of Selenochlamys ysbryda beneath their notice.
And that, my friend, is why -- even as I type this -- I am packing a large size box of Slug-B-Gon as well as a giant shaker of salt in my suitcase.
I hear that slugs will also drown themselves in beer, but since medievalists will do that as well I will forgo that kind of inhumane trap.
Since almost everyone has deserted us to go to Swansea, Tiny and I will be in Vegas and what happens there *won't* stay there.
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