Moo (17 page)

State Journal
, October 1, 1989: In a surprise move today, Governor O. T. Early slashed the state budget by more than $200 million, with cuts affecting many state programs and agencies, but not all. While some cuts had been foreseen for a number of weeks, the scope and depth of the final cuts took most observers by surprise. “This is a victory for the fiscal health of our state,” declared Governor Early, “and will ease the tax burden on our citizens. I consider these necessary cuts the boldest and most courageous accomplishment of our administration so far, and I know that the citizens of the state will applaud them.”

Most severely affected are social services agencies, education, health care programs, and public works programs. The cuts will go into effect January 1. In some agencies, whole programs will be cut; in others, a proportion of the personnel will be laid off across the board. The Governor’s office will press a “last hired, first fired” policy, which may have the effect of gutting recent affirmative action gains. “Sacrifices are always painful,” said the Governor.

The Governor went on to say, “I’ve been on a diet before, and I know how it feels. For the first few days, you think you’ve got to have those donuts and hot fudge sundaes you got so used to. Later, though, you know how much better you feel with a little salad and a piece of broiled fish for lunch. This state has been on a binge that we can’t afford. I came into office with a mandate to end that binge, and this is the first, hardest step. There’s going to be clamor and complaining, but I vow to the citizens of this state that I will be strong and resist. No more hot fudge sundaes!”

Governor Early has often been praised for the homely, down-to-earth way in which he communicates his ideas to the voters.

When asked specifically about health care, the governor remarked, “This state has some of the best doctors and hospitals in the world. It doesn’t make sense to me to keep open, at the citizens’ expense, a bunch of little hospitals scattered here and there, when folks are just going to have to go to the medical centers after a few days anyway.”

Of education, the governor had this to say, “Education is an investment.
The trouble is, they don’t run it like an investment over there, with the students as customers, because that’s what they are, you know. Now they run it like welfare, but I’m telling you, if they won’t turn it around themselves, we’ve got to turn it around for them. This administration believes strongly in education.”

Governor Early’s office will issue more specific plans for how the cuts will be made before October 15.

One year ago, after the majority in both houses of the legislature passed a line-item veto, something the Governor had been working for for three years, Governor Early made some cuts in the budget by vetoing phrases, words, numbers, and even letters in the budget document. When those cuts were overridden by votes in both houses of the legislature, the governor declared, “They ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Sources in the legislature today expressed doubt that the governor’s newly announced cuts would meet with much opposition. “The handwriting is on the wall,” said state senate minority leader John Dealy (D-Rock City). “We can read it as well as anybody.”

The World Trade Center, the Capitol Convention Center, the Governor’s Program for Enterprise Development, the new maximum security facility in Sidekick, the budget for the state government, and plans to build a riverfront mall in the capital city are among those programs that will be unaffected by the cuts.

Memo

From: Provost’s Office

To: All Departments and Faculty

Subject: Budget cuts

As some of you know, severe cutbacks will affect many programs in the spring. While our office had been expecting a budget reversion of some $7 million, the actual sum now demanded by the state is closer to $10 million. Nor do we guarantee that this will be the only reversion of this fiscal year. Each department is therefore required to supply, by October 20, a schedule of prioritized cuts, some or all of which may go into effect on January 1. In addition, no hiring is authorized for next year, even to replace departing faculty members. All searches must cease as of the date of this memo.

Memo

From: Chairman

To: English Department Faculty

The department can no longer pay for the following:

In addition, faculty offices will no longer by cleaned by the janitorial staff. Brooms, mops, buckets, and rags may be checked out through the secretaries from the janitorial supply room on the first floor. Trash should be carried to the Dumpster outside the east entrance.

Memo

From: Provost’s Office

To: University Physical Plant Services

Subject: Old Meats

Please act as quickly as possible to find a suitable buyer or buyers for the interior equipment of Old Meats, and for the building material that will be generated by the demolition of the building. Please, also, take bids on the demolition itself. Application has been made to the state to remove Old Meats from the State and National Registers of Historic Places. Following action on these applications, demolition will begin immediately. As a personal note, Howard, I’m sorry the planned renovations are now out of the question because of these cutbacks. We can barely put together the funds for structural repairs to the dome of Columbus Hall, but we hope to do something through alumni. Unfortunately, alumni attachment to Old Meats isn’t all that strong. Too bad, Ivar.

Memo

From: Office of Classroom Scheduling

To: Professor Lionel Gift, Economics

Please make a note of the new room for your Spring 1990 “Introduction to Economics,” MWF 10:30 to 11:30:

Old room: Red Stick Lecture Hall #2, seating capacity: 450

New room: Clemson School of Art and Design Theater, seating capacity: 1,500

The range of video monitors attached to the ceiling of the theater, which you have indicated that you plan on using, must be run by a
certified university engineer, Class 1 or above. Please contact our office for a list of names. You are reminded that under new university policies, faculty members using work-study engineers in the classroom are required to pay these students themselves. THE UNIVERSITY CAN NO LONGER PROVIDE THIS FREE SERVICE. Class 1 engineers are paid $8.50 per hour. Class 2 engineers are paid $10.50 per hour.

One more note—in your last memo to this office concerning your spring course, you referred to certain “customers.” Does this indicate that you intend to seat more than the enrolled number of students? If so, these nonstudents will be billed a “seat charge” of $35.00 for the semester.

Memo

From: Dean of the Library

To: Acquisitions Department

Subject: Budget cuts

There will be no acquisitions until further notice. Orders should be withdrawn for any volumes that have been ordered but not received by the library.

Memo

From: University Computer Center

To: All University Personnel

Subject: Computer log-on fee

As of November 1, a computer log-on fee of $.25 per log-on will be charged to every user. Users’ monthly accumulated fees will be added to their regular university bills. Please note that this log-on fee will be assessed EVERY TIME YOU LOG ON, EVEN IF YOU HAVE JUST LOGGED OFF.

In addition, charges for printouts will be raised from $3.00 per hundred pages to $.05 per page.

Memo

From: Helen

To: Cecelia

This is just a reminder that the number of students registered for your beginning- and intermediate-level Spanish classes in the spring will be thirty-two for each class, rather than the twenty-five that you have had this fall. Isn’t this the worst? Roger had to let go all of the instructors, because the university lawyer told him he couldn’t break individual contracts but “a bloodbath is legal.”

Memo

From: Dean, University Extension

To: All Offices

All publications of Extension materials will now be charged at $1.00 per publication, plus postage, rather than being sent out free, as formerly. See attached schedule of postage fees.

Please be sure to inform callers of this change. Those desiring publications should send checks or money orders to Mary Logan, Office of Extension, etc. We are not equipped to accept MasterCard or Visa at this time.

Note

X,

They plan to tear down Old Meats, but they’re keeping it very quiet. ASAP is the rumor, in spite of State and National Registers. Selling it off as junk, can you believe it? Even though I’ve always thought having an abattoir at the dead center of campus was only too revealing, I hate to see it go. And I know what it means to you. Good luck,

Garcia

Memo

From: Brown

To: All Administrative Offices

Please remember that our customers do not have a “right” to any particular services in return for their dollar, though they may think that they do. Sentiment against recent cutbacks may manifest itself disagreeably in your offices, but a short, informal workshop on maintaining positive customer relations directed primarily toward secretarial personnel should limit these unfortunate but predictable effects. I am at your service if you wish to consult with me about these concerns.

A
LL THROUGH HIGH SCHOOL
, college, and graduate school, Cecelia’s great belief about herself was that her heart was in research. In the midst of the passions, disappointments, conflicts, and noise of her family and her ex-husband, she had dropped her eggs one by one into a single basket, the life of the mind. Her mother’s complaint, in Spanish, “Jorge! She’s not listening! I’m talking right to her and she’s not listening!” had segued neatly into her ex-husband’s complaint, “Hello? Earth to Cecelia! Honey, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

At UCLA, she had treasured up her days in the library, first in a distant carrel far from any entrance, deep into the Hittite and Sumerian shelves, where no one ever went. Later, she’d gotten her own little windowless office and filled it with books and journals about medieval Catalan literature and other books and journals about feminism that assured her that the development and expression of the feminine mind was in itself a daring, revolutionary, and responsible act, and as antisocial in its way as reserving her thoughts and her attention for herself in the middle of the demanding swirl of her outer life.

At the beginning of the fall, she had confidently found herself another distant carrel, this time amidst the Icelandic and Greenlandic collection, no volumes of which had been checked out in seven years. She had applied for a library office, too, but they were in short supply. This, however, turned out to be a lifesaving development, because had she been confined to her office, she might have slept forever, might have found herself locked repeatedly in the library. In her carrel, at least the occasional janitor or the occasional student on his or her way to the German Romanticism collection roused her.

The fact was, in spite of the cooler weather, her mind had no life. All medieval Catalan literature did for her was put her into a coma, and all feminism did for her was arouse guilt, which in turn made her drowsy. Scholarly endeavor, which had for so many years felt especially pure and enlivening, had felt exactly like exercise of the mind (stretching, lifting, pushing, straining toward a clear goal), now
felt like hollowed-out willpower, emptied of desire or purpose. Nevertheless, she came to her carrel every day and sat down, opened her books and began. Somewhere in them, it seemed, she would find the golden seed. She imagined herself eating it, and desire rooting and blossoming once again.

As for Tim, well, that wasn’t working out either. He was turning out to be one of those men whose interest diminished as they got to know you. You got into this pattern of trying to be interesting by revealing more and more of yourself, like a salesman unpacking his sample bag, but the man, though he looked like he was smiling and paying attention, was really shaking his head internally—not that, not that either, no I don’t think so, not today. The temptation was to unpack everything, not exactly for that particular guy, but just to rise to the challenge, just to get the nod. Apart from the fact that Tim was still the only edgy, interesting person she knew, and still looked THAT WAY, the relationship, and probably the friendship, was moribund. Which meant that in two months she had made firm contact with no one—no colleague, no one in the feminist reading group, no student, no passing acquaintance.

And now, annoyingly enough, there was someone in her carrel, a man with an open book. In sixty straight days in the library, there had never been anyone in her carrel before, and the shock was almost more than the annoyance. She stopped short, and picked a book off the shelf. It was written in Icelandic: “Par munu eftir undrsamligar gullnar toflur—”