Life Of The Intellect
I was not a very good student, I was not very conscientious.1 I was not just dispositionally prone to meeting due dates and following assignments to the letter. Sort of numerically I was not a good student. My GPA was never good, my grade point average was always very terrible. But while I was sort of shirking a lot of my academic duties, I was reading classic literature, and I was reading everything that was assigned to me.2 I just wasn’t getting the essays in on time, or I wasn’t writing the essays as formally as they had been assigned, that sort of thing. So, I still was — I was still immersed in that kind of — the intellectual life of being at the university.3
And the education that I got at the University of Massachusetts was great. I mean the professors I had were amazing. They were amazing, I was not. And so, I mean I always valued the life of the intellect, and I always — I knocked around, I played drums in bands for many years, always kind of thought of myself as literary or artistic or musical or whatever kind of the humanities and art sort of truth and beauty and all that Keatsian stuff.4 So, I always valued that kind of literacy, musical literacy, literary literacy, fine arts, visual arts, all that sort of stuff. It’s just that when you sort of formalized it into higher education, it’s just that’s where things went off the rails a little bit.