My Own Personal Elba
When I was a kid and we weren’t at the Jersey shore on a hot summer day like today, my mom and I both would sink into a pit of despair– one of those pits born of idleness and oppressive heat and the absence of other people, all of whom were surely off somewhere having fun, because they sure as heck were nowhere in sight.
I’m having a bout of that listless melancholy at the moment. After a 5-week push as a middle-aged graduate student, I wasn’t exactly primed to be sitting alone in a NYC apartment (albeit a beautiful one) feeling like all the world was elsewhere and here I was, stuck, stuck, stuck–this time, studying for an exam.
Here I am, though, brushing up on the French Revolution and the Napoleonic era. My test is tomorrow afternoon, and if I pass it, which surely I should, I’ll have 3 of 27 needed additional credits towards my elementary teaching license. And that will have been worth the exile.
So, armed with data about the Enlightenment and Absolutism, I wave to those of you close to a beach, or a bar, or a boat. Grimacing from my person pity pot, I send you a token of Western Civilization: 1648-Present trivia:
The guillotine was invented by a:
- French butcher
- Expert swordsman
- A physician
- A Bastille official
Please, please, leave your answer in the comment section. And stick your toe in the water for me. Will ya?