Oh Ben

Ben, Ben, Ben. Oh, Ben. B.E.N. Ben.

I have this friend, Ben. He is also a graduate student here at the University of California, Irvine. He thinks it is funny that I am Mormon. He likes to ask questions along the lines of "Are you allowed to watch South Park?" "Do your people celebrate Christmas?" He was also kind enough to inform me that his Mormon neighbors did not actually eat their offspring as he had originally suspected.

Ben and I chat about all sorts of things. Today, I went to him for some help with a statistics problem. I've been confused about something all week and as I like to give the impression of being smarter than my students I decided I needed to get some answers. A ten minute statistics question turned into an hour-long discussion of what was wrong with me. Now, before we all go making lists, I have to say that I am fully aware that I have flaws. This afternoon however, I was brought to a new and exciting analysis. Ben has deemed me to be pathological. I have a problem that requires counseling. Ben says, "I never talk to people about these things. The only people I talk to about these things are train wrecks." I am a pathological train wreck. This from the boy whose favorite states are those that do not have motorcycle helmet laws. What would I do without my friend, Ben?