Alexander Hamilton, Part 2

As I work my way through the biography of Alexander Hamilton (hopefully in advance of seeing Hamilton: An American Musical when it makes its stop in Salt Lake), I’ll be writing some thoughts about the book, or just thoughts about Hamilton in general. They won’t always be a direct critique of the book, but we’ll see what happens.

Alexander Hamilton wrote a lot. Three-quarters of the Federalist Papers. A report on public credit and the national bank. A pamphlet about an affair in an attempt to clear the air. Biographer Ron Chernow noted that Hamilton “must have produced the maximum number of words that a human can scratch out in 49 years.” If there were notes to be taken or thoughts about something, It was almost a guarantee that he wrote it down.

This was evidenced by his courtship of Elizabeth Schuyler. Granted, at the time, it wasn’t as if he could spend hours upon hours on the phone speaking with his future wife. For one, the telephone wasn’t yet invented; second, he was mostly away with the Army fighting the Revolutionary War as George Washington’s aide, so he didn’t really have a bunch of free time. Nevertheless, he wooed the young Eliza with his words on paper, sending her a letter nearly every day he was away (we know this because he chastised her for not keeping up with his prolific pace of letter writing). Continue reading

Some Big News

With less than two weeks to go until I am done with school forever,* there are a few things about my short-to-intermediate future that I am ready to announce here.

*I reserve the right to return to school at a later date, but only as an instructor or administrator.

First, as you may know from my previous posts on the subject, I am currently looking for a job in Salt Lake City. While I wish this was an announcement of me or Kim finding a full-time position which would hasten our departure from Illinois, it is sadly not the case. Despite my efforts to the contrary, I have been unable to locate a suitable position. Part of the reason it seems is that I live in Illinois and people don’t want to interview me and are instead focusing on local folks first. If that’s the case, then I guess I should just move my happy self to Utah already and get on with it…which is what will be happening. though not for a while.

Continue reading

Why I Love Kim and Will Be Marrying Her Soon

I follow WordPress.com on Twitter, and today’s writing prompt led me to sit down and write this while I was sitting in the airport waiting to fly back to Chicago after a fun-filled vacation with Kim, my girlfriend since last May…or at least she was my girlfriend when we left Illinois last Friday. However, during our brief stay in Las Vegas, she became something more, the woman that I will spend the rest of my life with, the woman who will be the mother to my future children, and the woman that brings me the most joy.

Now, as many suspected and even mentioned, we did not get married in Vegas, though the thought had crossed my mind. At this point in our lives, I don’t think there is much need for a long courtship, and my time with her over the past 10 months has been nothing short of wonderful. I decided to “pop the question,” asking her to marry me and become my wife, something that I suspect will happen not long after we figure out where I will be working once I finish school in May. Continue reading

Second Grade Lothario

I’m taking a short break from ranting and raving about politics and whatnot to write what may end up being the first chapter in a potential memoir that I might write later this year for NaNoWriMo…or I might end up trying my hand at fiction. We’ll see. I briefly touched on this when I looked at some of my childhood journals previously, but I thought I would try and expand on that and make more of an in depth story around it. And away we go…

I was an eight year old lothario, spending my spring breaking hearts.

At least I think I was eight. I know that I was in second grade, and I know that I had two girlfriends. One, the little blonde that lived along 3500 South, will stick around in this story a bit longer than the other. Her name was Shawna, and she came in and out of my young life at least two more times before the age of 15. The other, Charene, lived around the block from me, on the “scary” corner, but she wasn’t threatening as we walked home from school. Continue reading