The man on the lift chair at Stephen’s Pass asks me my occupation. Professor, I tell him, at the University of Washington.
Oh, he offers, My daughter is a fourth generation Husky. I was in the class of 1972. Or, well I would have been if I’d graduated, but I knew what I wanted to do didn’t need a degree. If I’d wanted to work for IBM or Honeywell or something, then I guess it would matter.
Seattle, he continues scratching some snow from his mustache, used to be such a great city. But now, the traffic is crazy. My wife and I went on a trip and couldn’t find a city more messed up than Seattle.
Interesting, I tell him, hoping that exactly my lack of interest might change the topic of conversation. So what do you do?
I’m retire now, but I used to be developer.