So we're driving home from the Harps, my child and I, last night, one of these long sunny nights in Fort Smith, Arkansas, with storm clouds on the horizon, but no actual storm clouds, talking about the issues we talk about, art and being artists and trolls on the internet and the
latest iterations of QC and I was telling the kid about how much I too loved the smell of books and how one of the happiest moments of my life was the morning I got off the bus onto the campus in Fayetteville, Arkansas, after three years working a 9-5 job, and in the cool fall morning I caught the scent of books coming clearly from the basement of the library -- which vented right there by the bus-stop -- and I knew I was back in the academy.
"Back where I was meant to be," I told her. "The happiest moment of my life so far."
She burst into tears.
"What?" I said. "Baby, what?"
"I..miss...Fayetteville!"
"Oh...sweetie."
"It's a real university! I miss going to a real university!"
"Oh, baby-cakes. I know. But you'll be at a real university again some day. I promise."
"Fort Smith isn't anything like a real university!" she sobbed. "The buildings are so ugly! They don't have any Greek and Roman influences at all!"
1 comment:
Awww. Poor girl. Our campus does suck.
I would love to go to that book store Matt works at in Fayetteville. Damn gas money. Books are neat. They're like processed fruit...the fruit being trees...with knowledge woven into the fine-pressed fibers. Wooptie do.
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