So son applies to a bunch of graduate schools. Very few offer accredited programs in his area of study, and the ones that do usually only take about 25 students a year, so it's pretty competitive.
And there is the matter of that really fun freshman undergraduate year he had way back when in East Lansing. It was so much fun that it continued to dog him long after he figured out not only what he wanted to do in a career, but that you had to do your schoolwork and earn good grades to get there. That would be as in, when he retook a class he got a D in his freshman year and emerged with a 3.5 in his junior year. I asked why that was. He told me it's amazing what a difference just showing up to class makes -- a revelation.
Anyway, because of his hard work the last few years and laborious admission application preparations, he gets into several. Some are in interesting places -- New Mexico, Massachusetts, Colorado. And then there is Muncie, Indiana.
As it happens, the program in Muncie near the top. They've got state of the art facilities and top-notch faculty. It's just that it's, well, Muncie. No mountains. No Southwestern cuisine. No New York City a train ride away.
So while he was happy and relieved to be admitted, there remained the question -- what about living in Muncie? He'd talk about going to one of the other colleges, but it always came back to Muncie's program. And everyone there has been really nice. And the cost of living is likely lower.
We'd talk it up, too: Indianapolis is just an hour away. You'll be so busy you won't have time to notice that there might not be a lot to do. It's just two-and-a-half years, it will go by in a flash.
Still, he hadn't been there to see it yet. And when we drove through Muncie without him recently and it was what seemed to be flatland and farms for as far as you could see, I wondered what would happen when he did.
Then he and his girlfriend went to Muncie. They ventured in from what wasn't the most picturesque part of town and she, previously behind the Muncie option, started to talk about how maybe he should reconsider. Then they got to campus and it looked much better, especially when he got to meet a great professor and see the facilities.
But what may have been the clincher?
"There's a Popeye's, mom."
When he was growing up, a highlight of any trip was if we found a Popeye's at mealtime. Their red beans and rice, spicy chicken, yummy biscuits -- certainly not diet food, but awfully good.
And he seems content with his choice now. Thinking about it, I went to the school's Web site. Nowhere on there is a mention of Popeye's.
I think they are missing the boat.
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