The resident faculty left a curious photo outside the mail room this morning. We aren’t building a pier, so the staff hope it was a clue…. (More)
First our thanks to last week’s writers:
On Monday, you shared your stories of offline political activism in Things We Did This Week, Linda Lee caught Spring Fever in Midday Matinee, and Winter B spotted Mt. Everest a Pollution Time Bomb? in Our Earth.
On Tuesday, we wrote In Defense of 47 Despicable Senate Republicans in Morning Feature, readers helped tell Tuesday’s Tale: Coffeenated in Midday Matinee, and Winter B asked Daylight Savings Time Saves What Exactly? in Our Earth.
On the weekend, the resident faculty concluded their series on Whither our Democracy with Muddling Through in Saturday’s Morning Feature, Ms. Crissie was asked about Arrogant Crackers? in Sunday’s Morning Feature, and Winter B brought our weekly Eco News Roundup in Our Earth.
Note: Please share your stories of offline political activism in Things We Did This Week.
Thus we return to the photo left outside the mail room as the resident faculty made their way from the
wine cellar library where they spent the weekend drinking thinking on our motto of Magis vinum, magis verum (“More wine, more truth”) to the hot tub faculty lounge for their weekly game where the underwear goes flying planning conference:
“Did they go to the beach?” Chef asked as she brought out the decoder ring.
The Squirrel shook his head and tapped at his Blewberry: “I don’t think so. They didn’t look sunburned.”
“Maybe they used lots of sunblock,” Chef said as she scraped stray pecans into the Squirrel’s bowl.
Professor of Astrology Janitor shook his head. “I hope not. That goop makes a mess in the hot tub faculty lounge.”
“Eww,” the Squirrel texted. Chef arched a brow and the Squirrel tapped at his Blewberry. “Not the pecans. They’re fine. I meant sunblock in the
hot tub faculty lounge squirrel bath.”
“Ahh,” Chef said. “Well, they might have showered first.”
“Most public beaches have showers,” the
Professor of Astrology Janitor agreed.
“I don’t think they went to the beach,” the Squirrel texted. “Their plastic bucket and shovel were still in Civil Engineering lab supply closet.”
Chef shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t want to build a sand castle this time.”
“What else is there to do at the beach?” the
Professor of Astrology Janitor asked.
“Watch the horse,” Chef said.
The Squirrel looked at the
Professor of Astrology Janitor. The Professor of Astrology Janitor looked at the Squirrel.
“What horse?” the Squirrel texted.
“The slow motion one,” Chef said.
“I never thought I’d hear myself quote Pat Sajak,” the
Professor of Astrology Janitor said, “but….”
“Well,” Chef said, “you asked what else there is to do at the beach.”
The Squirrel took a slow, deep breath and tapped at his Blewberry. “Who said anything about a beach?”
“It’s in the photo,” Chef said.
“There’s no beach in that photo,” the Squirrel texted. “There’s no horse either.”
“Maybe the slow motion horse hadn’t caught up to the camera yet,” Chef suggested.
“Maybe I need to get a Hawaiian shirt,” the
Professor of Astrology Janitor muttered.
“Hmmm?” Chef asked.
The Squirrel tapped at his Blewberry. “There. Is. No. Horse. There. Is. No. Beach.”
Chef sighed. “Okay, so what is there?”
“There are two poles,” the Squirrel texted. “Like our economy is becoming. On one pole you have the wealthy and the upper middle class. On the other pole you have the rest of us. That’s what the resident faculty were discussing. No beach. No sunblock. No sand castles.”
“Well that’s good news,” Chef said. She looked at the
Professor of Astrology Janitor. “But how will you get the horse hair out of the hot tub faculty lounge?”
The Squirrel lowered his head. In slow motion.