Dear Mr. Garrison,
Stop. You’re killing me.
I mean, I have to accept that you “know nothing” about how someone just got an eMBA out of thin air. After all, we’re “following the report.” The report says that you weren’t really involved. So, OK. Let’s just say for argument’s sake, you weren’t involved.
(Have you seen my oceanfront property in greater Dubuque, Iowa, by the way? It’s fantastic. E-mail me for a showing.)
I have to accept that for whatever reason, my football coach decided to run screaming from your university. It might have something to do with a meeting in August where you all played a rousing game of “Pissing Match,” but I could be wrong. I wasn’t there. I didn’t participate in the meeting.
(You’re just making it super easy for his lawyers at this point … I mean, holy crap, at this point, just hand them the lawsuit.)
(Everybody loves a winner, right? Especially if the winner’s “one of us.”)
I even have to accept that people find my degree tainted now. That I didn’t earn it. Nevermind the fact that my Dad isn’t even the governor of the local Moose Lodge. People want to lump me into it.
(Thanks for that, by the way. I’m just glad I got my new job out of state before anybody really cared or decided to call me on it. And even if they did … it’s OK. I have every bit of documentation needed to prove that I earned that degree.)
I have to accept that for whatever reason, the media in this state have given you, by and large, a total pass.
I don’t have to accept acknowledging you as the president of a college I poured my heart and soul into during the four years I was there. I don’t have to accept your political appointment as a great idea. I don’t even have to accept that the Board of Governors thinks you’re an alright guy.
You know what you have to accept, though?
You’re running that university into the ground so fast it’s all becoming a blur. One bad or questionable decision just fades right into another. You’ve turned it into a personal playground for you and your ego. Your sheer arrogance is making it impossible to stand behind a place that did nothing but prepare me for success.
So, really, Mr. Garrison. Stop it. Just stop it. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to end up pulling a Randy Moss on you and instead of saying I graduated from West Virginia University, I’m going to tell people I graduated from the University of New Martinsville.
Love you, mean it,