Head Like A Hole [part I]

If you're in any way connected to the world of academia, Gentle Reader, you may know that there's a phenomenon called the campus-wide reading program (sometimes called the freshman reading program) organized by institutions of higher learning. Duke has one, I'm told, as do many other top tier schools. My school, the University of San Jose, has one, too.

This may not be news to you. For all I know, the university where I used to teach has one as well, but back then I got involved with school goings-on as little as possible. When you're not on the tenure track, there's no percentage in it.

At USJ I'm a real professor; no longer that second rate citizen referred to as "instructor" or "lecturer," and as such, I'm expected to perform "service." Service, in academia, means serving on committees. If this sounds dull, it is. You're expected to serve, not to have fun.

Me, I like to have fun. So when Hollywood Tom popped into my office yesterday and saw those stacks of books, picked up Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys and asked whether he might have one of the 12 copies in the stack, I told him, "No way. Those are for the committee."

"The committee? What committee?" He rifled through some of the other books like a kid in a candy store. (I love booklovers, don't you?)

"I'm on the committee that's choosing the campus reading program title for 2007," I replied, grinning.

"Aw, no way!" he exclaimed. "How'd you get on that?"

"Um, I volunteered."

"How'd you find such a cool committee to be on? I'm on a college-level committee and I'm not even sure what it's for. We have meetings once a semester, and they talk about stuff, and everyone nods, and then we go away until the next semester."

"Yeah, I've heard that about committees. I'm not trading you, so forget that idea."

"Where'd you get all these books?" asked Hollywood Tom.

"I called the publishers and asked for them." There were seven just-emptied cartons cluttering my office floor, and no less than 200 books stacked on every level surface. My inner English Lit nerd was in heaven.

"I didn't even know we had a campus reading program!"

"Well, I might not have, either, except that my first day here I found a copy of The Kite Runner in my mailbox, with a letter from the Dean stuck inside, explaining about the program. The university bought a copy for all freshman, and all new faculty. Since I didn't have any furniture yet; no TV, no computer, literally nothing to do, that weekend I sat on a pillow on my dining room floor, underneath the light fixture, and read the damn thing."

"Is it any good?"

"It's a good choice for a campus-wide reading program, but not something I would have picked up on my own. Young man grows up in Afghanistan, moves to the Bay Area. Socially relevant and all that."

"Maybe I'll read it."

"Maybe I'll give you my copy of Anansi Boys when I'm finished with it.

In Part II, the committee meets to discuss the long list, and Postmodern Sass must restrain herself before blood is spilled.