Monday, March 6, 2000

ASK MISS FORTUNE! (March 2000)

[DISSENT 46, 3/6/00]: 
[By Red Emma]

Dear Miss Fortune: 
     I pulled up the signs and headstones on the lawn. The President ordered me to put them back. Next, I mounted lock boxes on the bulletin boards, then took them down. Finally, I built a $3,000 storage room in the middle of a lobby where I was ordered to hide the photocopy machine, which used to sit in exactly the same place. I feel oddly like Sisyphus, forced to drag the same stone up a hill, only to have it roll down again, except that I was ordered to mount a plaque on my stone and now I’m supposed to take it off. Will my existential suffering never end? 

signed: Maintenance Staff 

Dear Staff: 
       What, you didn’t hear? They’re renaming the library, “The Raghu P. Mathur School Book Depository.” The lawn will now be called the “Grassy Knoll.” I’ll be Jackie, Armando will be Abraham Zapruder. Later, Cedric will be Earl Warren. Regarding Existentialism, I like to cheer myself up by reminding everybody that, despite the uniqueness and isolation of the individual in a hostile or indifferent universe, you can still get people’s attention by showing them your butt. 

Dear Miss Fortune: 
     I’m flying back to the Fatherland this weekend, where I expect full and speedy recovery from brain damage I suffered while buying a raincoat in London. I understand there may be work for me at IVC. 

signed: Augusto 

Dear General: 
      Yes, I think we’ve got a place for you on our winning team. You’ll be a real “feather in our cap.” How does “Director-of-Student-Affairs-For-Life” suit you? With your people skills, talent at stifling dissent, and shiny jackboots, you’ll fit right in. It’ll be like Oktoberfest all year round. Plus, we’ve got one Trustee who’s a really big fan. 

Dear Miss Fortune: 
     It’s me, again, the illegally-appointed president of a small community college, thinking positively, bringing people together and spreading the One True Light. Meanwhile, the judge threw out my SLAPP suit and now I’ve spent my raise on lawyers’ fees. How can I get the district to cover my losses? 

signed: Slapped 

Dear Slapped: 
     I’d ask for another security stipend, but if that doesn’t work, how about this: sue yourself. As President, the district lawyers will be required to defend you. Clever, huh? You lose, you win. I’m sure there’s a down side, but it can’t be any worse than teaching your new pet pit bull “Stipey” how to distinguish the Kate Clark mannequin from the Wendy Phillips one. 

Dear Miss Fortune: 
     I’m responsible for the financial records of the former Faculty Association PAC, which I kept for the longest time in a black box. Now they’re in a pretty red box with balloons and horsies painted on the side. When I wind the little handle, a funny tune plays and, after a while, a happy clown pops up and surprises me with a subpoena. What should I do? 

signed: Surprised 

Dear Surprised: 
      I’d put those nasty old records in an old F.A. ballot box, unmarked. That’s the last place anybody’d look. 

Dear Miss Fortune: 
     I recall your brave position opposing “same-sex” marriage in the last trustees election, so maybe you can help me out. Should I vote for Prop 22 because I hate others or just because I hate myself? They’re not like us, are they? 

signed: Anonymous 

Dear Anonymous: 
     You sound kinda existential. Some of my best friends are existential. We had one living next door. Once I dated an existentialist, but I’d never let my daughter marry one. When faced with difficult moral choices, I find it best to follow the example of Raghu Mathur. In that spirit, I’m taking down your name, foolishly included in your return address, photocopying this letter, and handing it out to the whole Board. Federal law, my ass! 

Dear Miss Fortune: 
     I’m so scared to join the union. Somebody might find out. I’m scared to write a letter to the editor because somebody might recognize my name. I’m scared to look a certain untenured Biology teacher in the eyes. And, now I’m being asked by colleagues to speak out like the rest of them at a special meeting on March 9. Help! 

signed: Xavier Onassis 

Dear Save: 
      Hey, I like your spirit! You tell your small group of disgruntled faculty colleagues to try showing up at that Thursday, March 9, special board meeting. Yeah, just try. You try and attend that meeting. We haven’t said where it is or what time, so you can try, all right. Hah! 

 —MISS FORTUNE

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