Red Emma's "Ask Miss Fortune" (c.1998-2000)

ASK MISS FORTUNE 

     With this issue, The Dissent inaugurates an occasional advice column. Like horoscopes, IVC Presidential memos, and the Brown Act, it is meant for entertainment purposes only. Persons parodied by Miss Fortune should take offense. I know I would.  [FROM Dissent 22, 3/15/99]

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Dear Ms. Fortune: 

     I am just itchin' to host an academic seminar on "Nazis Who Golf," "UFO Thumb Wrestling," and "Same-Sex Prayer Breakfasts." Any suggestions on how to get a class started up? 

   —Signed: Spotlight Subscriber ❤

John Williams

Dear Spot:
     Easy enough. Make sure the word "golf" appears in all your proposals, cc Trustee Williams, and get ready to tee off. —MF

Dear Ms. Fortune: 

     I am the illegally hired president of a divisive community college. In an effort to compel respect from my subordinates, I recently earned a long distance learning degree in education management and poinsettia arrangement from the University of Woodbridge. Now I'm unsure how exactly my subordinates should address me. I've taken to adding an understated "Ed.D" after my name, but this has only caused some clever wag to refer to me as a famous television talking horse. 

   —Signed: Through Horsin Around, Ed.D. 😈

Dear Through:
     Don't complain to me about funny names, buddy. Here's Miss Fortune's advice: E-mail your entire college announcing what exactly you want to be called, but include in the e-mail message some unrelated attack on a defenseless minority. I suggest homosexuals or philosophers or, better yet, homosexual philosophers. (Did you know, by the way, that Professor Roy Bauer was once faculty advisor to the Gay and Lesbian Club at IVC? Did you?) People will be distracted and confused as a result of your smear and soon you can call yourself anything at all. It worked for me. I call myself a registered Democrat and a trustee. —MF

Raghu P. Mathur

Dear Ms. Fortune: 

     I recently called a meeting which no one attended. If no one was there, was it a meeting? Will minutes be available? How will I know if another meeting has occurred? 

   —Signed: Feelin' Existential 👹

Dear Feelin':
     Personally, I refer questions of this nature to Pam Zanelli and Spencer Covert. They get paid big money to wrestle with these dilemmas. Consider their success with the concept of "fiscal conservatism."
     No, on second thought, don't. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     Remember me? I am the illegally appointed president of a once-esteemed community college whose door is always open. While a teacher and I we were meditating on "divine intervention" and the oneness of all things at a recent IVC Prayer Breakfast, that very teacher (oddly, the only faculty member attending) asked questions of a spiritual nature. When, he wondered, is a faculty breakfast not a faculty breakfast? How can one reconcile with one's enemies when one's enemies will not eat flapjacks? And what is the sound of one IVC hand clapping? 

   —The Amazing Mathurini 💩

Dear Amazing:
     The answer to your spiritual questions is, as with all questions, distance learning. Learning from a distance, even of thirty or forty feet, elevates one's perceptions, tunes one's consciousness toward peace and away from divisiveness and eliminates anxieties about pesky Accrediting Teams and micromanagement. I therefore suggest you remove yourself to a great distance. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     I've just chaired my last meeting of the Faculty Association. Whew! All those meetings without ever learning Roberts Rules of Order or the name of that damn orphanage. Now that I've got some free time, I had an etiquette question: Which of the union's credit cards is the correct one to use when the lunch bill at La Ferme totals over a hundred dollars? 

   —Rather Be Shopping At Nordstrom ☺

Dear Rather:
     I am informed that, in an effort to make things easy for everybody, the orphanage's name has been changed. It will now be called "Sherry and Bob's Place." Easy to remember, huh? All residents will, in an ecumenical electronic-virtual-distance-learning ceremony, be rechristened “Sherry” or “Bob” or, in some lucky cases, both. Regarding your use of the SOCCCD F.A. credit card, I think touchy financial matters are best left to the experts, but you might consider holding a community education seminar and invite, say, Charles Keating or Robert Citron. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     As editor of the F.A. newsletter, I'm fond of poking fun at people who disagree with my unlikely anti-union positions. Can I be held legally responsible for sending out unauthorized mailings using F.A. letterhead at the expense of union members? 

   —El Rey 👅

Dear El:
     Unlike this lousy rag, your newsletter is the official organ of an organized local, authorized to perform collective bargaining. Oddly, the law frowns on poison pen articles and misrepresentations when they stray from the will of the members they putatively represent. Of course, that doesn't mean that I wouldn't do something similar: say, send out a mailer exploiting South County voter fear and hatred of homosexuals. Capiche? —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     The Accrediting Committee arrives soon for its follow-up visit. As interim V.P., I've instructed everybody to look busy. Unfortunately, some spoilsports are insisting on meeting with the team. I'm wondering if now might be a good time to announce my plan for a week of Spring activities involving organized distraction and obsequiousness. Monday: President Appreciation Day. Tuesday: Distance Learning Up-Close. Wednesday: Geology is All In Your Head. Thursday: Tour of the President's Poinsettia Garden. Friday: Health Awareness: The IVC Clap is not a Social Disease. 

   —Shovel Boy 👠

Dear Shovel Boy:
     You sure know how to use that thing, dontcha? My only suggestion is that you engage the Trustees in your brilliant Machiavellian plan by adding golf, meditation or pancakes to the program. —MF

Hey Miss Fortune, You G*d**n *****! 

     I’m a guy who likes to make threats. Oh, boy, do I love to threaten people. Frighten. Scare. Intimidate. Gee, I use dirty, filthy, horrible language. Sometimes I use such awful, terrible, extraordinarily offensive filthy language that I can’t even read the stuff I write myself! I type it on the keyboard with one hand and have to cover my eyes with the other just so I don’t offend myself. Yes, that’s how awful it is. I’m so nasty that sometimes I e-mail people, sometimes I use the telephone, sometimes I write letters. There’s no method that I haven’t used to do my nasty, awful things. That’s really how horrible a bad, nasty guy I am. So, I was wondering: How can I get a copy of Dissent, ‘cuz my secretary’s cut off my supply? 

   —Anonymous 💀

Dear Anonymous:
     Just stop by Raghu’s office. He’s got a secret file just full of ‘em. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     I’m the illegally-appointed president of a small community college, thinking positively, bringing people together and spreading the One True Light. Lately, my flock seems upset about discovering my secret files on them and a couple of the arranged marriages are falling apart. A few dark panel trucks with “Accreditation Team” painted on them have just pulled up in front of A-100, but since I’ve had all the phones rerouted through PIO Joyce Kirk’s office (“We’re pleased about all the activities going on in the compound”), few of the Chosen Ones will even know. Besides, now that I’ve had my contract renewed, we can stay holed up here for two more years. 

   —The Appointed One 💩

Dear Wacko:
   I’m putting down the phone now. I have Glenn here with me. We’re going to walk, slowly, across the quad and make a swap. You’ll give us the files and the keys to the Greenhouse and we’ll give you Steve. Okay? —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     Enough already! I can handle mass protests in the streets of Belgrade and dissent at the university. I can handle attacks on my strange wife and good-for-nothing son. I can deal with NATO missiles and losing Kosovo. I can even endure international sanctions. But I will absolutely, positively not stand for further comparisons of me in the pages of the Dissent newspaper to that wannabe, Raghu P. Mathur! 

   —President Slobodon Milosovic ✊

Dear Slo:
     At least you understood the comparison. I’m sorry. Really. Nobody deserves what you’ve had to endure. Please, please don’t sue us. By the way, are you aware of the fine Anger Management Counseling programs available through the SOCCCD Employee Assistance Program? —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     As a God-fearing Christian conservative, I’m writing to explain the difference between “religious” and “religious right.” Easy. If you’re not religious, you’re wrong. If you are religious, you’re right. See? Whenever I’m confused about this, I consult with the local Fine Arts guy who attends our church, which the rest of the week is a community college we’re arranging to buy and rename “Irvine Valley Calvary Chapel (inc.com.edu.)” We’ll have distance learning and corporate sponsors and fun pancake breakfasts and the gym will be perfect for Promisekeeper events. We have big plans for decorating the campus, too. Imagine: Thousands of tiny bright lights strung on all the campus buildings, visible to South County passersby from the 405 freeway. The Fine Arts guy says this is all okay because it’s not political, it’s religious. Right? 

   —Funda Mental 👅

Dear Mental:
     God bless you. It’s quite a vexing problem, isn’t it, balancing one’s theocratic impulse with undermining pluralistic secular public education? Myself, I’ve taken to wearing a small button on my lapel, which, writ in small faux gold letters, reads “WWRD?” Whenever I’m feeling confused about matters spiritual or political, I look at my special pin and wonder to myself: “What would Raghu do?” Just repeating this handy mantra makes me feel positive and upbeat, though, oddly, it causes people standing near me to pick up their phones and call their lawyers. For further amplification on spiritual themes, I call the Vice President of Student Services. Although, come to think of it, I know what he would do. —MF

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. —MF

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. —MF

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 I can 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. —MF

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. —MF

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! —MF

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! —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     I recently left a high-ranking eleven-year administrative position in Belgrade to spend more time with my family. Little Marko is making new friends here in Moscow and, gosh, Mirjana is already plotting to overthrow the darn government. 

     I've spent a few thoughtful days lately, considering how the decisions I made affected Serbians and running from angry mobs and two guys who say they're from something called a War Crimes Tribunal. I understand the IVC Foundation is seeking a Director and I hope that you'll consider me for the position. 

   —Signed: Slobo M. 🐦

Dear Slobo:
     You'll fit right in here. Some helpful hints toward securing this coveted position: Change your party affiliation. Enroll in classes at a prestige academic institution, say, Nova Southeastern University. Get yourself on the hiring committee. CC your CV to RM at IVC. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     I was staffing the Army recruitment table outside the Student Services building, talking to the UPS employment fellow and the nice lady from MasterCard, who was handing out free T-shirts to kids who signed up for a credit card. We waved and threw brochures over to the Ye Olde Crafts Faire booth. There, a crew of tiny elves assembled handsome figurines of schnauzers dressed as clowns, these lovely statuettes made entirely out of Q-tips, yarn and rhinestones. Two nice young men from the Church of the Holy Townhouse Tabernacle came by, handing out Harvest Crusade literature. We were all havin’ such a great time. 

     Then, suddenly, a group of IVC faculty and students showed up with a card table and a flag. They said they were there to register voters. Well, I knew they were there to scare away all our business, crowd us out of our designated Free Speech area, and generally put a damper on our good time. 

     I'm trying to be all I can be, but these folks are treading all over my First Amendment rights. Right? 

   —Signed: G.I. Joe 🥋

Dear Joe:
     When you’re right, you’re right. I thought I saw you out there, in those short brown pants. Gosh, I love a man in uniform. Speaking of which, have you ever seen Lee W in his Fife and Dumb Corps costume? It makes Miss F want to march to the beat of his big, bad bass drum. Regarding your particular problem, I'd report all suspicious voter activity directly to the district. They seem to have all kinds of Board Policies, just the thought of which get Miss F Hot. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     I'm the Chancellor of a community college district up for his contract renewal. If my bosses win the election, I'm guaranteed employment. If they lose, I'll have to find a new college. Any ideas? 

   —Signed: Chance 🎃

Dear Chance:
     I'd try to do a mailing with a picture on it of Ronald Reagan riding a horse. Get the taxpayers to pay for it. Alternatively, you might hire the Blue Angels to fly overhead during the next trustees meeting, dropping brochures about free golf and homosexual teachers on the adoring crowds. Or they might crash, offering you an opportunity to foist blame on a small group of disgruntled pilots. —MF

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. 

     I was sitting in my comfy new chair just the other day, noting on the giant wall-sized graph on my office wall the history of ways my actions affected students. Raising my eyes from the floor, I saw a vision. There, on the wall, was Ronald Reagan's horse. As if in a beautiful dream, I leaped up and mounted the handsome steed and rode off into the sunset. 

   —Signed: Visionary 🥂

Dear Airy:
     Reviewing carefully the "Unusual Occurrence" reports forwarded to me by Campus Security, I note one involving a small man seen pushing a leather chair around in the A-100 Building at two in the morning hollering "Giddyup, Evil Empire" and "Whoa, Distance Learning."
     I'm prepared to ignore this episode if you can get another high-level administrator's secretary to sign off on my recent request to officially rename the Clocktower Quad the "Miss Fortune Urban Park." —MF

El Rey

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     I'm confused. What's all this about "same sex" benefits? I gotta tell you I just don't see it. My husband and I have been having the same sex for thirty years. You know the problem: It's all over in less time than it takes the SOCCCD Trustees to violate the Brown Act. I've chilled champagne, lit scented candles, put on sexy lingerie, even left copies of Board Policy 8000 lying open on his side of the bed. Nothing seems to work. Help. 

   —Signed: Frustrated 😒

Dear Fruss:

Don Wagner

     Do what I do, honey. Send out some really filthy campaign literature. One thing that makes a fellow friskier than dirty pictures is dirty tricks. That and a handful of Dilantin. Well, no, actually, that makes you want to drop a bomb on Korea, but that kinda makes this sexy girl hot too. —MF

Dear Miss Fortune: 

     The Boy Scouts can’t take public money to discriminate. God-loving folk can’t pray at a public high school football game. And homosexuals, Jews, and Communists are taking over the SOCCCD Board of Trustees. I go to my weekly Rush Limbaugh meetings and ask my friends for advice. Everybody shakes their dittoheads and laments the passing of the good old days, when the head of the County GOP could run for a pissy little college district seat and win without having to spend $100,000. 

     When will things be the way they oughta be? 

   —Signed: In Limbo 💩

Dear Limbo:
     I don’t know what you’re complaining about. After my recent conversion, I’ve had to meet a whole new group of people at GOP meetings. I used to be a Democrat, albeit a Reagan Democrat, so people keep coming up to me looking for the Mark of the Beast. (FYI: I had it removed with laser therapy.)
     Sadly, my new board allies aren’t buying it. As a test of my true allegiance, they’ve agreed to let me stay on the slate if I officially change my name on the ballot. Although I’ve spent a great deal of time developing voter trust in the good Fortune name, I’ve agreed. Note to SOCCCD district voters: Don’t ask, just please, please mark the box that now reads Dorothy Harvest Crusade. God bless. —MF