Saturday, August 06, 2005
Small World
My old sleuthing buddy phoned the other evening to get caught up on things; we hadn't spoken in awhile, and we usually call each other every other week or so since I moved from Puget Sound to the Bay Area.
Seems his tenured university pal has been on paid leave of absence since last fall after the top brass fabricated some charges against him in retaliation for his whistleblowing on embezzling that was going on in or around the provost's office. I can't recall all the details, but suffice to say that this professor friend of my former associate did not take the threat, nor suspension, nor attempted payoff laying down. He hired a civil rights attorney who just last week filed suit in federal court.
But what makes the story particularly interesting to me is that the provost's assistant at the time is an old friend and former roommate of mine from the 70s, and according to my gumshoe goombah, requested a transfer when he saw what was going down--refused to participate in anything crooked. Good for him. It gets better.
Turns out my investigating friend who phoned decided to drop in on this mutual friend who also roomed with his sister once, during which time he and I worked together seasonally in the salmon industry. So it's kind of old home week when he pops in his office to say hi and see if he can get the scoop on the university coverup.
Lo and behold, no sooner than he sits across the desk from our buddy, and he says he's now married to the woman who got my first book censored by placing a threatening phone call to my publisher two summers ago. (It's a long story.)
At any rate, my pal says he must have gone white as a sheet, because when he got home he had three gimlets (maybe four) in a row. He was, after all, the person who attacked this arguably crazy woman in the local press for slandering my book and libeling me. (I hope these are the correct terms. You get the idea.)
Which only goes to show how incestuous things can get when you've lived somewhere long enough and get involved in things like cleaning up government corruption. Eventually you're gonna run into inexplicable puzzles that boggle the mind, and the only thing you can do about it is to turn to intoxication.
Seems his tenured university pal has been on paid leave of absence since last fall after the top brass fabricated some charges against him in retaliation for his whistleblowing on embezzling that was going on in or around the provost's office. I can't recall all the details, but suffice to say that this professor friend of my former associate did not take the threat, nor suspension, nor attempted payoff laying down. He hired a civil rights attorney who just last week filed suit in federal court.
But what makes the story particularly interesting to me is that the provost's assistant at the time is an old friend and former roommate of mine from the 70s, and according to my gumshoe goombah, requested a transfer when he saw what was going down--refused to participate in anything crooked. Good for him. It gets better.
Turns out my investigating friend who phoned decided to drop in on this mutual friend who also roomed with his sister once, during which time he and I worked together seasonally in the salmon industry. So it's kind of old home week when he pops in his office to say hi and see if he can get the scoop on the university coverup.
Lo and behold, no sooner than he sits across the desk from our buddy, and he says he's now married to the woman who got my first book censored by placing a threatening phone call to my publisher two summers ago. (It's a long story.)
At any rate, my pal says he must have gone white as a sheet, because when he got home he had three gimlets (maybe four) in a row. He was, after all, the person who attacked this arguably crazy woman in the local press for slandering my book and libeling me. (I hope these are the correct terms. You get the idea.)
Which only goes to show how incestuous things can get when you've lived somewhere long enough and get involved in things like cleaning up government corruption. Eventually you're gonna run into inexplicable puzzles that boggle the mind, and the only thing you can do about it is to turn to intoxication.
