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For the twentyish rake that he was in 1929, he had insights well beyond his years. Even though a degree then especially from McGill or one of the other national universities (though Buffy didn't bother to finish his as he believed Selwyn College and LCC would carry him though) guaranteed employment privilege, he didn't exploit that, instead pursuing a more exotic (he thought) writer's life.
He and his pal we also pioneers of today's Airbnb and Couchsurfing models, comically renting their apartment hourly while they prowled Rue St-Denis. I spent some of May,1982 in Montparnasse and witnessed the same fractional room rental interest at a Left Bank hotel where we were asked to leave our packs downstairs as we left for a day or days of adventure.
McAlmon was an odd case who was penniless as one of many children of an itinerant Kansas minister- I've observed offspring of men of the cloth recoil to hedonism as McAlmon did. He was a survivor though, marrying the lesbian heiress to an English shipping family. His romp with the boys, including their visit to the madam, the trip to apply for visas and their times on the Cote D'Azur in 1928 followed Bob's split (was there ever a union?) from his wife.
The sadest part of his biography is Buffy's account of recovery from his various communicable diseases, though he must have bounced back as his most productive years were then spent writing poetry of some merit.