One of the best things in my life is when frolleagues stop by for a weekend. My friend and colleague E. Moore Quinn, a linguist from College of Charleston, stopped by on her yearly sojourn through the green fields. After about 30 seconds or so, talk naturally turned to anthropology. We also talked about men, cats, horses, scones, and how shite most ball-point biros are, but mostly we chattered on about projects we were/are working on, books and articles we’ve read or are planning to read, and the wonders of phenomenology. I’ll be honest, my brain needed the level of stimulation only Moore can inject! Within an hour we had a curry on the hob, a gorgeous bottle of Cotes du Rhone Villages underway, and were deep in discussion on material culture and memory a la Danny Miller, David Lowenthal, and Dean MacCannell. It was brill!
Sometime after 2.30am we wandered off to bed (Moore with a stack of books on material culture procured from my shelves) and me with Marshall Sahlins on the night table. At 11am we wandered downtown for some brunchy munchy and once again were picking each other’s brains on all subjects anthropological. All too soon, Moore packed her bags and drove off to Lifford somewhere in the icey north of Donegal where it snows 11 months of the year and Yetis are regularly seen. She likes driving rented Renault Clios to dangerous, remote and wild places. She texted me to say she had arrived safely, but had in fact, been stuck in near white out conditions forcing her off the road and into a bakery where she consumed several cupcakes in order to sustain her strength. That’s another thing about us anthros—we’re brave and are well versed in the four food groups: cake, coffee, wine, and cigarettes.
By the way, Marshall Sahlins won out.
Donegal Yeti in June
Reading Anthropology 