“Yeah, when’d ‘at happen?”“Drake, I mean Daddy,” I said. For he knew when my birthday happened.“No, baby doll, call me Drake. Now, sweet...eart, when’d you turn 18?”“Drake, today,” I said, still barely awake. “You weren’t at my party.”“No, you’re wrong,” he said, glancing at his wristwatch, “today is tomorrow, and your birthday was yesterday, now.”“What?” I said.“After midnight, little lady,” daddy said, thumping his watch.“Oh, yeah, yesterday. You, still, didn’t show up,” I said, sounding. He sat up all night in the living room, almost finishing a bottle of Glenlivet during his journey into deepest despair. +++++ He was scheduled to teach three classes his first term at the college: a freshman seminar in American History, an American Foreign Policy survey course, and an upper division course covering American foreign policy during the Cold War. He’d have, in total, less that thirty students under his wing, a far cry from the two hundred or so students he’d had at USC – in just. More

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