The Unknown Cynic

December 27, 2016 New Orleans, Louisiana As I'm sitting at a picnic table under an umbrella in the courtyard of the India House Hostel in the Mid-City section of New Orleans, I am reflecting on the past four (five?) days and nights that I've spent in the Big Easy. It's a good day for reflection. The sky is overcast, the ground is wet and the trees are still dripping a bit of the remainder of the latest shower. The temperature is noticeably cooler today, which is nice. I have just bid goodbye to a nice German girl who was hoisting her backpacks onto her shoulders, front and back. By her own admission, she has too much stuff. In one of her hands is a plastic bag full of items that would not fit into her luggage. I'm left to assume that she purchased some t-shirts or other memorabilia from New Orleans, perhaps as gifts for people back home, where she told me she is headed.  She strikes me as someone who is not a novice at traveling, and has stayed in many hostels

December 20, 2016 Chicago, Illinois I believe that I promised at one point to tell you about my experience with a part of the sharing economy that has become a large part of my life. As you know, I have been hosting guests through the Couchsurfing (CS) website for over three years. This has been a good opportunity to meet people from different countries and cultures. And I definitely have enjoyed the social aspect of it. Not long after I began hosting guests, there was an invitation on the local (CS) page to enjoy Thai food in a local host's home on a Sunday evening. This was definitely appealing to me, and I joined up. When I arrived at the upstairs apartment, I found that there were a lot more people than I had expected. Friday (the host - cute name, cute girl) explained that there were a few people from CS, some were from her community garden, some from Mealsharing, a couple of coworkers, etc. I asked her what Mealsharing was, and she started to explain how people s

December 19, 2016 Chicago, Illinois There's a blue Post-it Note bearing the number "3" stuck to the bottom-left corner of my computer screen at work. For the last month, I've begun my mornings by replacing the previous day's sticky note with a new number, counting down the days until I clock out for the final time at this job. Now that I've been into the single digits for almost a week, the number seems to be an accusation. It reminds me that I still have much to accomplish before I leave. This past weekend, I spent almost all of my time trying to get my apartment emptied and cleaned. It's been frustratingly slow trying to sell my belongings. Using Craigslist wasn't particularly successful. Many people asked questions about items they were interested in, but very few actually showed up and purchased them. I was lucky enough to get rid of the bigger, more expensive items, but I was deeply discounting much of the merchandise. I posted flye