Do You Know What You're Asking?



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     Like every human-being alive, there is a modicum of the ego-maniac in me.  Although I sought to be consistently humble, I nevertheless did enjoy wowing people when I could. Not so much anymore because I now am acutely aware of how singularly unimpressive I actually am for most people and how unimportant making such impressions are. But in my college days, in heyday of the foolishness of my youth, I was particularly eager to be seen to be good at something...anything. First, it was a bit impressive that I graduated high-school at fifteen. My GPA didn’t hurt my academic reputation either. But I had a conundrum. What should I study?  I was interested in philosophy and religion to be sure, but there was no gainsaying the fact that I was deeply interested in psychology and the human sciences. On  top of that I had recently developed a curiosity about ancient languages. 
     My assigned academic advisor turned out to be the academic dean of the college, a person I later came to know as “Killer Miller”.  He knew I was a high achiever, and that I was a capable student so he wanted me to be challenged. He suggested that I consider a double major...difficult but not impossible.  When I countered with a proposal to have a triple major, he said “oh no” that’s not done. I persisted and he relented. We worked on the timetable and I told him that rather than four classes per semester, I wanted to do six. He said absolutely not, that is not done, it is too difficult. I persisted and he relented.
     When I left that day, he said I hope you are ready for what you’ve signed up for …

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