While the King was Looking Down. . .

OK, folks.  Through the power of the Internet, hear me now. . .

I am happy to leave this blog here.  In fact, if you have questions for me, feel free to shoot me an email, as I have created a separate one for those with questions for me if you have any after reading what is written here. Itinerant Professor [ItinerantProfessor82@gmail.com]

The time comes to play the king and stop fearing someone will play the ace.  And so, with my time as a history professor most likely coming to an end, it’s time for me to become the itinerant scholar and ply my trade of professoring and jesting on the road.  We’ll see how it goes.  I hope I may continue writing as well, but no longer can I offer it here for free.  Sorry.  I need that thing called money to buy the next tank of gas and a warm meal.  It was truly awesome to get paid to share lessons learned from history while continuing my own researches, but the time comes when one must change with the times.  It is unclear that universities are the guardians of knowledge we once were.  The Internet is here and it is changing the game, most especially here in America.  I might have wished to help the university transition into this new world so tempted by online classrooms (a thing I fear has inherent limitations), but it seems that we don’t choose our fate, only how we react to what fate has in store for us.

So in this, my final message on this blog, unless I might one day monetize it–which probably won’t happen soon–here’s the deal:

I have learned what I came here to learn: I have been so happy that you all have enjoyed my writing.  It has become clear that even without returning often to write new articles, those written so far have been well received.  Because WordPress.com does what all the other sites do (they’re curious what you’re up to), they share with me where you are coming from, which search engines you are using, and where you are clicking from and where you are traveling to on my blog.  From this I can see that certain articles have done very well.  It doesn’t matter to me which ones precisely, I wrote what I wanted to write.  I was a young Frida Kahlo checking if I was any good at this word smithing to see if I should continue.

For now I have more immediate concerns:  food, a warm bed, supplies for a long journey, keeping my mechanical mistress in good repair for an epic road-trip, Jack Kerouac style.  Perhaps I am Sal and I’ll encounter a manic Dean to remind me how to live life on the raggedy edge like a candle burning on both ends.  Maybe together we’ll chase skirts and ideas like each day could be our last.  At any rate, he’ll have to tolerate my preferred poison of coffee, and perhaps an intriguing hypothesis that borders on madness, maybe he and I have much in common after all. . .

At any rate, I can be reached at the above email with questions, should you have any. Should you meet a traveling Buddha on the road, either kill him or stay your hand.  Just know that no guru has all the answers, for we are all wounded souls trying to put ourselves back together.  I could share my process for how I repaired my own–sometimes it still cracks (though it never breaks)–still, my thoughts are yours to take or leave as you will.  We’re all on our own journey, and I sense that my next great adventure awaits.

I know to be grateful for all that I have been given.  Life is a wild ride.  It is a mistake not to appreciate what you have.

Peace,

David.

hobo

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