I was not going to write this blog post. I was going to write a completely different piece. In fact, I did. But as is my custom, I wrote the column, put it away for a couple of days, and went back to re-read it. And it's a good thing I did.
It wasn't bad; it was superb. Tightly written, concise, well-paced, and fascinating, the column was another blend of my lives, this time the life of the rhetoric teacher and the life of the innkeeper. The only problem was its tone.
A friend recently told me that it seems like I have a chip on my shoulder about innkeeping, and he's right. I'm too critical of not only innkeeping's modern incarnations, but the way people practice something I consider to be a sacred art. I've written in detail about innkeeping's history in both this space and my book A Brief History of Innkeeping in the 20th Century. I consider it a true vocation.
In my opinion, too many other people don't feel the way I feel about innkeeping. To them, it's just a business, a hobby, a cutesy dream. There's nothing wrong or negative about that; it's actually a good thing. It brings wonderful diversity to the metier. The problem is with me. I need to lighten up.
So please accept this mea culpa for my sometimes chippy attitude. I really love this innkeeping gig. I get to meet the most interesting people, I get to control my own path, and I get to practice something I take seriously. Most of all, I get to exchange ideas and experiences with innkeepers of all stripes, as we work hard to make traveling a little bit nicer, a little more unique, and a little more eccentric for the folks who visit us.