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The Family *roll

“I’m a philosopher”

March 16th, 2010 · 13 Comments · Academia

I was very happy to be able to accompany Em to all of her midwifery appointments in Chicago when she was pregnant. On our first visit (sometime in the middle of the morning on a weekday), the midwife remarked that it was good that I was able to get time off from work to come. I replied, “Oh, I don’t work” and left it at that. Strictly speaking it was true. I didn’t have a job, I was a grad student. I realize that it implied something else entirely and that’s what made it so funny… to me. Not to Emily. She was not happy with the idea that I was presenting myself to the rest of the world as a priviledged lay-about. So, of course, I made a point of telling people, “Oh, I don’t work” whenever I could (and the “Oh”, for some reason, is crucial to the comedy — as though it hadn’t ever occured to me that I might work or that people would naturally assume that I worked. “What. Me work? Don’t be ridiculous!”)

Now, however, I can’t do that. These days, when people around here ask me what I do, I say that I “teach at Carleton”. It occured to me the other day, however, that I have an even more pretentious and offensive response than “Oh, I don’t work” at my fingertips: “I’m a philosopher.” The italics indicate relish in the utterance.

Emily has threatened to divorce me if I follow through. She just doesn’t understand us philosophers.

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