In which a veteran of cultural studies seminars in the 1990's moves into academic administration and finds himself a married suburban father of two. Foucault, plus lawn care. For private comments, I can be reached at deandad at gmail dot com. The opinions expressed here are my own and not those of my employer.
Monday, March 13, 2006
In the Abstract...
The Boy was in the dining room with The Girl and his cousin, who was visiting for the day. The Wife and I were in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. The Boy announced, loudly:
"Sometimes I think I feel the need to scratch my butt."