Every University town becomes a satrapy where the tenured seek to proscribe life for the inhabitants. Guarding their ‘power’ as if nuclear waste, non-conformity is a mortal threat. Just as they had gotten rid of me when it was clear I was doing my job, they must close my learning center. Since I was not a Lunatic, I knew this.
Interestingly, it took them four years, four very profitable years, to do this. As soon as I heard they had convened some ‘committee’ to “examine my learning centre’ I sold it to a colourless, odorless amalgam, a Nobel Laureate, who marrying a Lunatic, had drifted into limbo. As he spent a lot of time on Earth protecting the few brain cells he had left, the sale was not public knowledge.
The Learning Center continued as it had when I owned it, while I spent my days running my bar.