Brass Cannon Plans

By now, I'd hoped to be on the tenure track somewhere, as an expert in eighteenth-century English literature – but whatever leads I had dried up when the economy crashed. Even sessional teaching is a washout in my hometown, for at least the next two years. At my age, I have to face the fact that I don't have much time left to get a foot in the door somewhere.

Academic research is what I'm trained for, and what I love. Even if nobody's willing to hire me to do it, I'm going to take the next year and do as much as I can until my money runs out. If this is my last shot, I'm going to go nuts on it.

Robert Heinlein retailed this story: a certain man makes his living polishing the brass cannon in front of the town's courthouse. Someone asks him about his retirement plans. "I've saved a little money," he says. "I'm going to buy a cannon and go into business for myself." Picture me with a whole house full of cannon catalogues, deciding how much I can afford.