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Provost search should focus on substanceEditor, Your editorial of Sept. 6 expressed your concern that "OU will go for more than a year without a permanent No. 2 officer, the provost." Your main concern appears to be that an appearance of instability in the leadership of the university will diminish our image and therefore the monetary value of OU degrees. I would urge you to reconsider your concerns and emphasize substance over image and learning over income. Why don't you challenge us to consider the kind of provost who will help OU provide the best possible education to future students (your younger siblings, your children)? Why don't you urge the university community to spend the next few months identifying the qualities that we believe a good permanent provost really should have? The fact is that virtually all the faculty of my acquaintances were ecstatic when the previous permanent provost left, and we sleep much better at night with Gary Schumacher serving as our chief academic officer. Our only regret is that he is a temporary and not permanent provost will evoke much celebration among faculty. If the OU community can cease to worry about issues of image and focus on issues of substances in our chief academic leader, we might actually be able to find a permanent provost who can fill the temporary provost's shoes. Steve Hayes Comic store closing disheartens customersEditor: When I heard Jerry Ski was closing the Uptown Mini-Maul's doors, I was struck with a sense of melancholy. Athens has lost quite a few things I loved about it since I've left, but seeing its only real comic store go out of business is disheartening. It's just another sign that while the future might be always unfolding before you, the past gets smaller and less complete all the time. For seven years of my life (two degrees plus one year as a townie), I was a regular customer of the Mini-Maul. I was one of those people who'd be lined up outside of Ski's at noon on Fridays, come fair weather or foul, just to be first in line for new comics. I'm sure we looked like a motley crew, and we were, but we had a united love in comic books. For us, Ski and his quirky store – with its Elvis lampshades, gravestone ashtrays and used toys in plastic baggies – were integral parts of Athens' landscape. After dealing with homework, crabby professors and an endless supply of collegiate headaches, Ski's store was an oasis at the end of a long, hot and dusty trail. We'd scrape our way through classes, looking forward to the end of the week when we could grab a handful of comics and a barrage of friendly sarcasm from Ski. Ski gave us a couple of scares over the years, saying he wanted to close down, head to Miami and sell beaded necklaces on the beach. After the first few times, we never took him seriously, and I guess we thought there'd always be a Mini-Maul. But if we could lose the graffiti wall, Brother Jed, Late Night Pizza, the Athena and Night Court ... Well, I guess nothing gold can stay. So, Ski, if we never said it before – thank you. Thank you for the years of fun. Thank you for never letting us get too full of ourselves. Thank you for keeping us sane. And, on a more personal note, thanks for selling me Sandman No. 1 for $10 when it was really worth $20. Jim Tremlett, '93, '96 |