[Rally]

It's interesting to look back and ponder but of course it is imponderable.  So many choices in a lifetime, from the moment you realize you are a being independent of your mother.  I was a fairly big fish in the little pond of my public high school and chose to apply to Stanford because it was pretty and my uncle lived nearby.  Naive in the extreme I applied no where else and was offended when my high school counselor told me I was an idiot.  I got in but was way out of my depth.  I wrote an essay my freshman year and used the phrase "all intensive purposes."  I asked a dorm ate to proof read it.  He laughed at me, shared it with others, who also laughed.  They spoke Latin, for God's sake.  My roommate spoke Greek.  Mostly preppies, they used marijuana; I had not yet had a beer.  I finished the year with a 1.8 and thanked God my parents didn't know my grades.  I was in panic.  But failure wasn't an option so I pulled myself together and graduated with a 2.8.  Stanford contributed nothing to my academic standing.  I never took a course remotely related to business, economics, math, etc yet aced the BizBoards enough to earn admission and a fellowship.  For me Stanford has been a double-edged sword.  I have carried an inferiority complex ever since, but I also learned, not in classes but in dorm bull sessions, etc. how to look at life, how to cut through bullpuckey, how to make sense of most things.  I have sometimes wondered if I would have been better off somewhere where I would not have been such a very small fish.

One of only two high school teachers I respected, Richard Bolton, was a Stanford grad and recommended me.  But he also told me, "Mike, I don't know about this.  You are the perfect Stanford man for the 40s or 50s, but this is the 60s; are you sure you want this?"  Cocky as only a big fish can be I laughed him off.

On the other hand, I have good friends from my undergraduate years, and enjoy the recognition that comes with the diploma.  I also enjoy the company of people like you, here on this forum.  So,  all in all, I am glad to be a Stanford Man, whatever that means.  It is telling that my best remaining friend from those days is somewhat like me.  2.8 GPA.  Together, as seniors, we decided we shouldn't graduate without ever have taken Trig, so we enrolled in Math 0,a non- credit class.  He recently joked he aced the final.  I told him I don't remember a final.

Obla dee, oblah dah, funny how this life goes on.

[Rally]

It's interesting to look back and ponder but of course it is imponderable.  So many choices in a lifetime, from the moment you realize you are a being independent of your mother.  I was a fairly big fish in the little pond of my public high school and chose to apply to Stanford because it was pretty and my uncle lived nearby.  Naive in the extreme I applied no where else and was offended when my high school counselor told me I was an idiot.  I got in but was way out of my depth.  I wrote an essay my freshman year and used the phrase "all intensive purposes."  I asked a dorm ate to proof read it.  He laughed at me, shared it with others, who also laughed.  They spoke Latin, for God's sake.  My roommate spoke Greek.  Mostly preppies, they used marijuana; I had not yet had a beer.  I finished the year with a 1.8 and thanked God my parents didn't know my grades.  I was in panic.  But failure wasn't an option so I pulled myself together and graduated with a 2.8.  Stanford contributed nothing to my academic standing.  I never took a course remotely related to business, economics, math, etc yet aced the BizBoards enough to earn admission and a fellowship.  For me Stanford has been a double-edged sword.  I have carried an inferiority complex ever since, but I also learned, not in classes but in dorm bull sessions, etc. how to look at life, how to cut through bullpuckey, how to make sense of most things.  I have sometimes wondered if I would have been better off somewhere where I would not have been such a very small fish.

One of only two high school teachers I respected, Richard Bolton, was a Stanford grad and recommended me.  But he also told me, "Mike, I don't know about this.  You are the perfect Stanford man for the 40s or 50s, but this is the 60s; are you sure you want this?"  Cocky as only a big fish can be I laughed him off.

On the other hand, I have good friends from my undergraduate years, and enjoy the recognition that comes with the diploma.  I also enjoy the company of people like you, here on this forum.  So,  all in all, I am glad to be a Stanford Man, whatever that means.  It is telling that my best remaining friend from those days is somewhat like me.  2.8 GPA.  Together, as seniors, we decided we shouldn't graduate without ever have taken Trig, so we enrolled in Math 0,a non- credit class.  He recently joked he aced the final.  I told him I don't remember a final.

Obla dee, oblah dah, funny how this life goes on.