Several years ago one of my students came up after class and said, "Hey, I found your Instagram account." My response reflected the love and patience that has marked my award-winning teaching career: "You idiot, I don't have an Instagram account. Moron." As it turns I did have an Instagram account, which led me to paying a milk shake to said student by way of recompense. That Instagram account accounted for exactly one picture, which was of my suitcases sitting in my apartment in Abu Dhabi as I packed up to return to the States after my year in the UAE. Why did I have an Instagram account? Well, since I didn't remember setting one up in the first place the logic/illogic of setting one up in the first place has been long lost in the mists of time. In fact, I don't even remember the handle, so it would take some investigative work to track down that elusive picture of my suitcases. What is the point of all this? Oddly, I now have another Instagram account, whose handle I do know: scudder_gary. Now, why do I have it? The other day I was creating childish memes to survive a dreadful meeting at school and my stupid Meme Generator directed me to set up an Instagram account to continue my idiotic snarkiness (I don't know whether it was capitalism or a fail-safe for my mental health). As you know, I like challenges, so I've decided to post one travel picture a day on Instagram for one year. Plus, it helps me get my pictures organized. I've been running them off and framing them, and now I have a structured mechanism to force me to make sense of them.
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