UM . . .

I wonder what would happen if, rather than dutifully wending my way over to the conference early tomorrow morning to help my colleagues staff the South Dakota Review table, I just happened to fuck off and, unable to help myself, meandered over to the Art Institute of Chicago, instead . . . where I might blissfully wander through the Contemporary/Modern galleries, not to mention the Arthur Rubloff Paperweight Collection, which contains over 1,400 priceless paperweights -- primarily from the famous French factories of Baccarat, Clichy, St. Louis, and Pantin, and handcrafted during the "golden age" (c. 19th century) of paperweights(!)

Admittedly, I'm the Editor for the winter and spring issues of the South Dakota Review, so I really ought to go and sit at the table. But I'm thinking . . . what would happen if, say, I just happened to flow over there sometime more in the vicinity of the afternoonish hours?

I suppose I have to go and sit at the stinking table.

Because if I didn't, it would be wrong, wouldn't it? (Wouldn't it???)