Historical April–May 2006 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
Regular readers of this column may not know that I am semi-rapidly approaching the end of my studies. Yes, after years and years (and still more years), I am about to receive my terminal degree! Thank you in advance for your cards and well wishes, for your presents, similes, and smiles.
It has been a long and arduous route and, if I don’t say so myself, I’ve earned this degree.
There were many times when I could have taken an easier route, could have elected a soft course or not been so driven and been satisfied with a grade of B. Not me, though; no way, no how.
As much as this sucker is costing me, I’m going to make myself hurt to get it.
The impending degree, what is it? Sorry. I’m receiving a doctorate in American Hoo-Hah. No, this isn’t a common degree; in fact, I don’t know anyone else who has one. American Hoo-Hah is somewhat of the evolution of American culture. Culture, though, is, well, it’s culture. Hoo-Hah is, well, it’s HooHah. There’s nothing deep about Hoo-Hah.
But hey, a doctorate is a doctorate.
As long as I can prescribe medicines and get a better restaurant reservation, who cares?
The institution, what is it? Sorry. It’s the University of Lackluster. Yes, I recognize that, ahem, it’s not a well-known institution. That’s OK.
Most well-known or even not-wellknown institutions might not take an academic chance on me. Give the folks (actually, I think it’s just folk) at the University of Lackluster credit, though, he saw my potential. Once my credit card company affirmed that my card would cover the tuition, I was welcomed with open arms. Actually, the University of Lackluster is a postcard program.
All communication, including lectures, takes place via postcards and the U. S. Mail.
There was some talk about using on-line capacities but the Lackluster Provost, so I’m told, didn’t want to use this new technology until he is sure it’s not just a fad.
The postcards added an extra wrinkle of complexity, but the courses weren’t tough.
To be fair, though, the introductory course was challenging because it required me to do original research. Wanting to discover useful knowledge, I decided to compare the tastes of bottle and draft beers. That took quite a bit of time. I, ever the intrepid student, decided to make the question even more relevant by also comparing beers tasted in the city versus those tasted in suburbia. Research is never easy, but I was up to the task.
I found that I could taste up to eleven or twelve beers in a single evening, as long as I cleaned my palate between brews with a bite of a Crispy Creme donut. Hoo-Hah!
The composition class wasn’t hard but took forever.
The University of Lackluster is a very savvy place, and the faculty member realizes that most people don’t write any more. Think about it.
In your life, most communication takes place via voice mail or on a cell phone, right? What little writing takes place is done with thumbs. Between broken email phrases and cryptic cellphone sentences, a regular sentence is an aberration. So why bother to teach writing? Anyway, in recognizing that people don’t write from scratch, the writing requirement at the Unversity of Lackluster became very focused: Construct an essay using only the sayings on fortune cookies. I’ll admit that this can be a bit limiting; there aren’t a whole heck of a lot of adjectives on fortune cookies.
On the other hand, this avoids superfluous phrasing or extraneous words. Plus, the General Tao’s Chicken is great. Fortune cookies go well, by the way, with both bottled and draft beers.
There was no math requirement at Lackluster U., which I applauded. Math has never been my strong suit, not even my strong sports coat, so I was happy to wave at it.
The social sciences are the strength at Lackluster U.
The university’s advertisements say that they produce real leaders (at least that’s what I think they say; it’s very hard to read the tiny print on matchbooks). Their leadership preparation consists of putting you – I mean me – in a complex situation, and then seeing how we – I mean me again – respond to it.
There are three situations per class, each one is followed with a reflection and analysis, all written in fortune cookies phrases.
My first situation was to figure out how to get into Busch Stadium for a Cards game with no ticket and no money.
It was a snap.
I disguised myself as a baseball bat, and was carried in by the team’s equipment manager.
The varnish on my face didn’t feel too good, and did n’t like being held by the ankles and slammed against that battingpractice baseball, but at least I was inside the ballpark. (Since then, people at work have been referring to me as Slugger.) My next challenge was just that, a real challenge. For this one, I had to board a commercial airline at Lambert, and fly somewhere with no ticket and no money.
In fact, I had several failed attempts.
I rented a TWA pilot’s outfit, but was stopped at the gate.
I was stunned to find that the airline is no longer in business!
When did that happen?
Then I tried simply saying that I’d forgotten my ticket.
I gave them my destination and flight time, but they weren’t buying. What’s with all this airport security, anyway?
I also tried dressing up like a Saint Bernard and being shipped somewhere, but I couldn’t find anyone to ship me, and no one understood my barks. Plus, that outfit was hot. Hoo-Hah!
Finally, I succeeded by remem-bering my Mom’s advice for whenever I was in a pickle: “Go back to what brought you, Sonny,” she’d say. No, she wasn’t great with words.
She meant that I should stick with the true and tried, so I did.
I disguised myself as a baseball bat and was shipped on board with the rest of the Cardinals’ equipment for a flight to spring training in Florida.
The final requirement for the doctorate from the University of Lackluster is a capstone research project.
The standards are really stiff here!
The research needs to be quantifiable, arduous, publishable, and significant to advance society.
This is the make and break stage of the doctorate.
I pondered long and hard on what to pursue. Getting my degree was the goal, but I wanted to go above and beyond. We’re only here once, and this might be my chance to make a difference in the world.
I decided to study tattoos.
The study of tattoos is, surprisingly fairly rare in the research. There’s not been a lot of work here which baffles me.
I mean, everyone I know studies a tattoo when it’s visible!
My research question dealt with categorizing both the kind of tattoo, i.e., What is the topic? and the location, i.e., on what part of the body is the tattoo placed? Going beyond and above, I then did a correlational study to ascertain if the location of the tattoo increased the likelihood that it would be of a particular nature. (It took me a long time to rule out the converse, i.e., whether the nature of the tattoo determined the location. Since tattoos are stationary, though, that isn’t possible.) I’ll devote a future column to sharing some of my tattoo findings; the column-inches left to me here do not give ample room to write about my conclusions and their profound societal implications. Suffice it to say, though, that there are some mighty big correlations. I’ve yet to see a tattoo of a cross positioned on buttocks, just as I’ve yet to see a tattoo of Batman on a forehead. (If you know of either of these, please contact me!) The enthusiasm for tattoos doesn’t appear to be diminishing at all. More and more young people are wearing tattoos, and more often than not they’re in fairly salient places. That makes research easier (though the obscure ones are the most fun!). What does all this body modifying mean? Bringing all of my Lackluster U. preparation together, I mused a great deal on the meaning of this while comparing draft and bottle beers and looking for the just right fortune cookie message. OK, dear reader, I must go now.
It turns out that I have some parking fees that must be paid before I can be granted my Lackluster degree. That’s pretty odd since Lackluster U. has no campus, but I’m looking so forward to graduating and being called Dr. Hawkeye that I’ll gladly pay. Lackluster U. doesn’t have a cap & gown ceremony; that’s far too traditional for a cutting-edge institution. Instead, we will graduate wearing bowling shirts and shorts.
I hope to wear my TWA pilot’s cap, too. Until we meet again, start noticing those tattoos, will you, and keep some anecdotal records?
I may need the data when I enroll in my post-doctoral program at the University of Lackluster.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, April–May 2006.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times2006_04.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
