Justification #2
A meeting of the board of directors. Seven to ten men in dark business suits are seated around an ovular conference table. At the head of the table stands an easel holding a large pad of paper. A title is written at the top-“What Students Need”-and many things have been written below and then crossed out. The meeting continues.
“Hot water!” one man cries out. “What about hot water?”
“No, it’s railings,” says the man to his left. “Railings around the elevated porches.”
“Paper towel dispensers?” says the man two seats down.
“How about locks on the front door?” says a man in a pinstripe suit.
“Clothes dryers! Definitely clothes dryers!” shouts a small one at the far end of the table.
But each of these is shot down in turn. The bickering and arguing continues as it has for the past three hours, until-
A clap of thunder! A burst of lightning! A man appears! A tall, thin man, wearing a logo-ed polo shirt and neat khaki pants. A small flurry of Rooms-To-Go pamphlets shower down magically from the ceiling.
“My friends, I have your solution!” the man shouts. His voice is loud and convincing, but with a slight musical quality-utterly trustable.
“Chairs!” says the magic man. “Chairs will solve all of these problems. Chairs can line the porches so students won’t fall off! Chairs can be propped in front of doors to prevent people getting in! Students can curl up in chairs to get warm after cold showers, and wipe their hands on them when they get wet! They could even drape damp clothes over them when they do their laundry!”
The distinguished directors look at each other. What the man says makes sense-chairs really could do all of these things. Chairs could make all the student complaints go away, for years perhaps! But where on earth could a person obtain so many miraculous furnishings? The question is posed.
“My friends, I’m so glad you asked!” says the magical man in his professional-yet-inviting raiment. A second bolt of lightning reveals a podium outfitted with scroll and quill.
“All I ask is your signature on this contract, and I can provide you with all of the chairs you could ever ask for!”
The directors look at each other again. There is a pause, a split second of inactivity, and then all seven to ten directors are scrambling at the podium, vying to be first to sign the document.
Six months later…
The students stand in a group in the hallway. They look to their right-chairs. They look to their left-chairs. A contented sigh.
“Hot water!” one man cries out. “What about hot water?”
“No, it’s railings,” says the man to his left. “Railings around the elevated porches.”
“Paper towel dispensers?” says the man two seats down.
“How about locks on the front door?” says a man in a pinstripe suit.
“Clothes dryers! Definitely clothes dryers!” shouts a small one at the far end of the table.
But each of these is shot down in turn. The bickering and arguing continues as it has for the past three hours, until-
A clap of thunder! A burst of lightning! A man appears! A tall, thin man, wearing a logo-ed polo shirt and neat khaki pants. A small flurry of Rooms-To-Go pamphlets shower down magically from the ceiling.
“My friends, I have your solution!” the man shouts. His voice is loud and convincing, but with a slight musical quality-utterly trustable.
“Chairs!” says the magic man. “Chairs will solve all of these problems. Chairs can line the porches so students won’t fall off! Chairs can be propped in front of doors to prevent people getting in! Students can curl up in chairs to get warm after cold showers, and wipe their hands on them when they get wet! They could even drape damp clothes over them when they do their laundry!”
The distinguished directors look at each other. What the man says makes sense-chairs really could do all of these things. Chairs could make all the student complaints go away, for years perhaps! But where on earth could a person obtain so many miraculous furnishings? The question is posed.
“My friends, I’m so glad you asked!” says the magical man in his professional-yet-inviting raiment. A second bolt of lightning reveals a podium outfitted with scroll and quill.
“All I ask is your signature on this contract, and I can provide you with all of the chairs you could ever ask for!”
The directors look at each other again. There is a pause, a split second of inactivity, and then all seven to ten directors are scrambling at the podium, vying to be first to sign the document.
Six months later…
The students stand in a group in the hallway. They look to their right-chairs. They look to their left-chairs. A contented sigh.