RABBIT HOLE UNIVERSITY

CHAPTER 1

I met Henry Fortenbaugh at an annual mountain oyster eating contest on a hot late August Saturday afternoon in San Antonio, Texas. Fall term at RHU to start in two weeks, Henry had won the mountain oyster eating contest and I came in second. Henry, around five foot two, a spitting image of Danny Devito with dark frame owl glasses, wore a gray T-shirt with large red letters PHD Philosophy across the front, matching gray cargo shorts, no socks; and tennis shoes that looked like they had been through two world wars. I was dressed in tan Bermuda shorts, a green T-shirt, and my Swiss white tennis shoes were slightly newer than Hanks.

For what it’s worth, when I checked in at the event, a sassy young lady asked me if I was married.

Caught off guard, I mumbled, “Ah…ah…no…”

Flirting smile, she said, “Sign here, Cary Grant.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You remind me of Cary Grant.”

“Thank you, I think, who is Cary Grant?”

“North by Northwest.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Hollywood movie star.”

Anyway, with the event over, first place blue ribbon given to Henry, some applause, I nudged up to him and said, “Congrats, Henry.”

He looked up at me, burped, paused, and said “Thanks, call me Hank, who the fuck are you?”

“Jeremy Jarrett, they call me JJ.”

“You remind me of somebody.”

Just then a tall shapely woman of color stepped to Hank’s side. A couple of feet taller than Hank, she wore a white T-shirt that showed RHU proudly across her blooming breasts. Her eyes held a brown intensity I had never seen before, no observable makeup, she wore white sports shorts that allowed a peek at her elegant naval; all of her resting casually on pink tennis shoes Hank said, “This is Dr. Hare, my doctoral adviser, she’s a prof in the RHU Philosophy Department.”

Dr. Hare, smiling, said to me, “Veronica…they call me V around the campus.”

Extending her right hand to me, she said, “And you are?”

“Jeremy Jarret.”

I grasped her right hand and felt a warm intense strangeness, I had never felt before.

Our eyes locked, I said, ANice to meet you.”

She said, “Are you a grad student?”

I said, “No, no, afraid not, I’m just…freshman, no major yet.”

She smiled, “Well we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we.”

Hank said, “Freshman huh…you…look, I mean, older?”

AI was a Navy Frogman, Combat Diver, six years, just got out.”

Hank said, “Hell you say.”

“Afraid so.”

Hank paused, and said, “We’re going to dinner, PDQ, wanta join us?”

A little surprised, I said, “The PDQ on East Street?”

“That’s it.”

“Yes, I’d love to…it’s…the PDQ diner is on the first floor, the same building as my apartment.”

Hank said, “Hell you say…you’re joking, right?”

“Not at all.”

Hank: “I live there too, third floor.”

“I’m on the second floor.”

“Hell, you say. Son of a bitch, you got a sidekick?”

Quick glance at V, I said, “No, not now, no.”

The PDQ Dinner on the first floor of my apartment building, front windows facing EAST Street, ten booths, several tables; the three of us settled into a booth, me on one side, Hank and Veronica on the other side.

Hank said, “You live here, how come I haven’t seen you in the PDQ before.”

“Just moved in.”

A young woman looked like she had some pain, appeared booth side, pencil and pad in hand, “Ready to order?”

Hank ordered a strip steak sandwich, smell the hoof rare; Veronica had a Cobb salad, and I had a veggie burger. We all had coffee, black.

Orders in, glances with Veronica from somewhere way back in time, I asked her, “Do you live in this apartment building too?”

She smiled, “Afraid not, downtown, a condo.”

Hank sensing my interest, smiling said, “She shares the condo with a shrink, Chester Wagner.”

She said, “We don’t share.”

Hank smiled, “We get together at her condo once in a while to talk about what came first the chicken or the egg.”

After an awkward few seconds, anxious to know more about PhD’s, the philosophy department, I asked, “How does that…I mean…how does…tell me about the PhD philosophy programs.”

Hank looked at Veronica, “Wanta take a crack at that, oh wise lady of mine?”

V rolled her eyes and then began, “Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) is usually a five-year program…I’m helping this (she nodded to Hank) turnip head design his selected program of study––”BEFORE THE BEGINNING.”

Hank rolled his eyes.

Coffee served, all sipping, I said, “How does that…I mean what all is involved…I mean….”

Hank looked at V, “Tell him the good news.”

V smiled, “PhD candidates take courses in history of philosophy, logic, epistemology…usually five years…with Hank here might take ten.”

Hank, AHah.”

I said, “What is epistemology?”

After a few seconds of awkward glances, V said “Branch of philosophy that examines the nature of knowledge, its presuppositions and foundations, extent and validity…explores logic to explain how knowledge is possible…cognition.”

I said, “What is cognition?”

“Cognition, the mental acquisition of knowledge through thought, experience, and the senses…uniquely human.”

Hank folded his arms and smiled. “Fun stuff, huh frogman.”

I said, “Fascinating…please…tell me more…I mean…the uniquely human part.”

V said, “Far as we now know, we, you me, humans are the only creatures in the whole universe who have cognitive qualities…not sure about Hank here.”

Hank smiling like the Cheshire cat, said, “Hah.”

I said, “So, what are the requirements…I mean to enroll? Get a PhF degree in philosophy?”

V said, “First off, candidates must have a bachelor’s degree in philosophy, in addition to meeting the General RHU admissions requirements.”

Hank folded his arms, smacked his lips, smiled, “Tell him what they are.”

V said, “Applicants must submit a short statement of purpose indicating their proposed research and an essay on an appropriate philosophical topic. The essay should discuss a philosophical topic of the applicant’s choice.”

Hank said to me, “Wanta jump in the pond, frogman?”

Just then dinner served, Hank said, “That’s why they call this joint the PDQ.”

Eating, I said, “What is that Metaphysics?”

Hank took a bite and chewing, said to V, “Tell him.”

“Metaphysics is the branch of philosophy that studies the fundamental nature of reality…the principles of being, identity and change, space and time, causality, necessity, and possibility. It includes questions about the nature of consciousness and the relationship between mind and matter, between substance and attribute, and between potentiality and actuality.”

Hank smiling, said to me, “Glad you asked?”

“For sure.”

Hank: “Wanta declare a major?”

I just looked at both of them, “Maybe.”

Hank rolled his eyes and took a bite of his steak sandwich.