I Have The Memory Of A Gadfly

On Monday, I wrote an entry about a socioeconomic trend I’ve seen in Austin regarding cache placement. I had brought it up years before, and thought it might be interesting and a little bit thought-provoking, a way of looking at it from an unexamined point of view. After it published, I realized that it had been at the front of my mind because I had touched on it two weeks prior. I’m sure that the newspapers of record have, at one time or another, published similar stories in relatively short succession. At least, that is what I choose to believe. I could consider the newer entry a detailed follow-up to the former, but I think that would be a rationalization on my part. While the editorial staff of this periodical offers its sincerest apologies for the error (full disclosure: my actual editor did nothing wrong (#notalleditors)), it does not regret offering more ink and column inches to the subject. I only wish a more scholarly overview of the matter could be provided for both your and my edification.

All that said, I found myself returning to an old location for a new cache again. I’ve been leaning on challenges a lot lately because the weather has been getting me down a little, but I don’t want to burn them all in the blink of an eye. I should supplement them with some real, honest-to-God caching, no? I’ve also been continuing work on that book I’ve been talking about since the beginning of time. I originally thought of just online publishing with a print option, but I’ve been experiencing a bit of scope creep. If I’m going to do this, I want something for the ages or some kind of crap like that. That, and, thanks to all the photos, there’s a significant visual component. I don’t think I’m going to make a coffee-table book (though I have considered it), but there’s definitely more to it than I first thought. However, I have decided not to travel back to anywhere to get photos. You’ll just have to accept Benjamin and some of the other less well-photographed courthouses as I originally captured them. And if I get to writing a Louisiana book, you’ll be in some real trouble, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it!

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