9-29-86 I slept poorly, and rose with stiff thighs. The poor sleep was caused by today’s speaking engagement with the Tucson Defense Bar Association, while the stiff thighs were caused by this weekend’s [bike] riding. One was caused by anticipation, the other by exertion. The speaking engagement went well. I arrived at the Mountain Oyster Club early, taking a seat in the room where I would be speaking. A waiter brought me coffee. I was surprised at the decor. First, I saw a sign which read “Private; Members Only” on the door. Inside, I saw photographs of wild animals and cattle. The restrooms were marked “Bulls” and “Heifers.” Inside the restroom, I saw pictures of giraffes, elephants, and other animals copulating, and also pictures of naked women. This is apparently a macho club of some sort. I thought briefly about leaving, about boycotting the place, but decided to stay. Well-dressed people began filing in at noon.
Since I had never met Stanley Trachta, the person who asked me to speak, I sat quietly until someone approached. It was Trachta. He asked me to sit at the front table with him, where he asked me questions about my background and the lecture that I was about to give. I began speaking from the podium [sic; should be “lectern”] at 12:10, and continued until 12:45 to about thirty attorneys. All but two were white males. The others were a white female and a black male. See? It’s a macho, sexist club. I’m frankly surprised that there were any females or nonwhites in attendance, for I had expected the worst. But the lecture went well. I prefaced it with an apology: “First, I’m tired—from a long, weekend bike ride; and second, I’m nervous—because you’re strangers.” But I pretended that I was lecturing to my students on Venn Diagrams or something, and it went well. Within minutes I was in control of the situation. I sketched four fallacies on each side of the tort-reform debate and then fielded questions. The questions were polite and to the point. I answered them with no trouble. Finally, done with the lecture and questions, I thanked the attorneys and “apologized” for “ruining your lunch.” To my surprise, they applauded for a good half a minute. I blushed and walked out of the room.
So that was it. Why had I worried? I’ve been a university instructor for over three years, have appeared on radio and television, have lectured to prospective law students, and have tried cases in [Tucson] City Court. And yet, I still get nervous at speaking engagements. Perhaps I always will. I think that nervousness plays an important role for me. It motivates me to master the material at hand. If I’m in trial, it makes me prepare and anticipate problems. If I’m lecturing on philosophy, it makes me anticipate questions and think of new ways to present the material. It’ll be interesting to see if [sic; should be “whether”] my nervousness disappears as I grow older and more experienced. . . .
Since I was downtown [in Tucson], I decided to walk to the Transamerica Building to see the [Arizona] Supreme Court order in the Del Rio case. There, Cindy Bailey told me what a “Rocky Mountain oyster” is. It’s the scrotum of a castrated bull. All at once things fell into place. I understood the decor of the Mountain Oyster Club, the saclike pouches engraved on [i.e., woven into] the carpet, and the machismo atmosphere. Cindy tells me that Rocky Mountain oysters are actually eaten by people, and are considered a delicacy. Personally, it makes me want to vomit. But I got a taste for western humor and tradition today. I also gained some experience in speaking to lawyers. They’re really no different—at least no more demanding—than my students. As a philosopher of law, I have a lot to say to them. [Ha! Lawyers get along quite nicely without philosophers.]
On the way home, I had my hair cut. Earlier, I learned that my presession course proposal entitled “Sex, Ethics, & The Law” had been accepted by the faculty. Great! It was one of four courses accepted, and gives me some security for next summer. Besides doing something that I enjoy (teaching) and reading interesting materials, I’ll be paid $1000 for my efforts. I just hope that enough students enroll in the course for it to be offered. But then, with a title like mine, this should be no trouble. [The course was offered.]