Word on the street has it that you are now the muckiest muck at the school. The bossiest of the bosses. The big man. The connection.
Congratulations! I, myself, am completely in favor of this appointment. And because I'm me, I have a bit of wisdom to share with you. After all, I was a piano teacher for 30 years. So I've pretty much seen it all.
First, you already know that whenever I see you, my inner file clerk tells me I'm looking at Ed Thompson, my mentor and friend from my days at the U of U music department. So, neuro-chemically, I'm predisposed to think you're pretty great. Also, that you can sing the entire "Messiah" from memory, including all the solos and the 'orchestra only' parts.
Here, allow me to illustrate my point:
|Here's Abraham Lincoln, pretending to be you and Ed.|
Well, President Kramer, allow me to disagree. From now on, you must please all of the people, all of the time. No exceptions. You must especially please me, starting with adding caffeine to all Coke products on the premises. I've had students smuggling in the hard stuff for too long. It's time.
|Contraband Diet Coke. |
Don't bother looking for the student who brought it to me.
He's fled the country.
Also, you should know that, as of yesterday, everyone at the school is now convinced they're smarter than you. Everyone. Like, I overheard the guy who delivers Cheetos to the Bookstore mouthing off about quantifying ROI on scholarship funds when the recipient turns out to be -- bless their hearts -- as brainy as day-old yogurt.
But I stood up to him. I said, "Hey! ROI doesn't have to be immediately quantified when the investment itself is established in a long-term money-market ATM with less than ten porpoises per fiscal YOU'RE DUMB GIVE ME MY CHEETOS RIGHT NOW!"
So, I got your back.
Finally, it's really important to keep your priorities straight, and to depend on your friends when the Cheetos are down.
So my last bit of advice is not to forget that you gave me this weird, sorta made-up job and sent me to an office with an awesome view but which I don't even dare hang a calendar in just in case someone comes along and says, "Hey! What the heck are you doing in this office, you interloper! Take down that calendar immediately! And is that pen school property? Because if it is, so help me...", and now you've changed jobs and I'm feeling a little like Kevin Costner in 'Dances With Wolves'.
|You can totally see the resemblance, right?|
|The cover photo for my latest memoir, |
"Fanatics I have Known and / or Met on Elevators"
No one wants to see that happen, Bryce.
Best to you! Chin up! Long live the King! (what? too soon?)
(that's how I spell my name now)