TODAY, of course, was the first day of classes here at lovely Irvine Valley College. There were lots of fresh faces, lots of bewildered looks.
Imagine visiting the college for the first time.
Now, IVC is among those places that has no entrance. It has, rather, entry points—like, say, a Sears, which can be entered at several points, all of them lousy.
But let us suppose that some evildoer has placed a gun to our head and has insisted that we identify "IVC's entrance." In that case, without doubt, IVC's entrance is that nameless road (it has a name, but no one knows it) that sort of happens along Irvine Center Drive.
Now, if one takes that road and heads straight (nothing will direct one to do otherwise), one will soon encounter the grand and inviting Student Services Center. But it will be distant, across a vast expanse of lawn, halfway across campus.
"Surely," thinks the first-time visitor, "an information desk is closer than that!"
Inevitably, therefore, the visitor parks and then wanders into the A100 building, which is nearby and which, unlike other buildings at IVC, sports a flagpole.
"This must be the place," they'll say. "Surely, we'll get our questions answered here!"
AND THUS IT WAS THAT, until recently, a visitor who entered A100 would immediately encounter a clearly marked information desk, smack dab in the middle of the building.
* * * * *
Today, after our classes, Rebel Girl and I wandered into the A100 building as we headed to the parking lot. Once inside, we beheld the rumored empty space created by the recent removal of the Info Desk. The rumor was true.
We stared at the space. The Reb pointed at the place on the wall where the word "information" once greeted visitors:
I became peevish."I guess we don't have information anymore here at IVC," I said, loudly enough for others to hear.
Just then, three young people wandered into the building from the direction of the flagpole. They were lost. They had questions.
I looked at the Reb. Then I walked up to these kids.
"Looking for directions? Information perhaps?" I asked.
"Yes," they said. They looked at the shitty spot that once said "information." They looked around the room.
Someone attempted to give them directions to the alleged "info" booth in the Student Services Center, way across the lawn, past the coffee zone.
"Where?"
For some reason, these kids remained bewildered. They wandered in the opposite direction of the Student Services Building. We watched their progress.
I looked at Reb.
"Lunch?"
MEANWHILE...
Tomorrow, young Adam and I will race Fords, virtually.
Sarah will insist on hide an' seek.Up in Pacifica, Fannie's doing well, now that she's home with Tiger-Ann. Recently, she won some kinda prize for this great photo she took at a dance she attended a few months ago:
