My sister, doing doctoral work some years ago in Indiana, told me of a graduate thesis that had gotten some interest locally.
The school included a degree in hotel and restaurant management and a student in that curriculum had researched and written a paper on why the thickest part of ketchup tends to collect at one end of the plastic packets, while a red, watery ooze collects at the other end.
My sister, whose discipline was sociology and who spent the best part of her first 28 years in various schools learning about it, couldn't recall what exactly caused this separation of ketchup, but marveled at the scholarly invention.
Academic endeavors at their highest level are specialized by their very nature. Thus, a layman to learned pursuits might look over a stack of graduate papers and smirk at their haughty titles.
Save your sneers. In the academic community, all things have their purpose, or at least most things, and higher education is having a tough enough time these days without someone taking to task ketchup research and other scholarly investigations.
Free thought, once the province of academe, has taken a few hard hits on campuses in recent years. Intolerance to certain attitudes is infiltrating university life. What is an eccentric to do?
At Western Illinois University, he must defend his job. At a place on the front edge of the Great Plains, there is a tenured associate professor in the Department of Recreation named George Harker. He teaches courses in the concepts and philosophy of leisure. (Repeat to yourself, all things have their purpose.)
Harker's unique approach to these concepts might be at odds with the general demeanor of most western Illinoisans. His expertise, if it can be called that, is in the type of leisure one experiences in the great outdoors and in a great state of undress.
For whatever distinction this brings to a professor, he is one of the Midwest's leading authorities on nude beaches.
As it turns out, Harker, who has earned his 20-year pin at Western Illinois (presumably watching carefully where it was pinned), authored a 42-page book on how to create and manage "clothing-optional" beaches and parks.
His expertise has also been called upon in court cases involving nude beaches.
Hmmm, now that's something to include in the alumni newsletter.
It is not for his nudist tendencies that a five-member faculty committee is reviewing Harker's association with the university, or so they say. Rather, there have been allegations against the professor of skipped faculty meetings, failure to give final exams and disregard for office hours.
Okay, let's face it: the faculty meetings are usually boring, students don't complain about missing final exams and office hours are only sporadically useful.
My gosh, the man is teaching leisure. Do you really need to bury your head in books to learn such a thing? Besides, there is a sun to worship ... but you can't expect people who fund public universities (separating church and state) to understand that.
Undoubtedly, the folks of Macomb, Ill., don't see many like Professor Harker. If they see a lot of him, they perhaps see a lot of him. And usually it's the students you can't keep in the classroom once tanning season begins.
The faculty committee must make a recommendation on Harker's case by the end of the semester next month. Members leave themselves bare with their decision. And how can they resist a colleague who teaches so forcefully against tan lines.
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.