WARNING: the post you are about to read contains thinly-veiled bitterness, justifiable cynicism (probably) and pervasive sarcasm. People with weak stomachs or those preferring lighter-mood-fare are strongly cautioned. Not recommended for the school-spirited or exceedingly loyal. Read at your own risk.
This seems to follow the stubborn-persistence strategy of Abraham pleading for Sodom. (There are some limitations to the connection, but you get the idea.) In fact, I don't know that I've ever had to tell someone 'no' so many times who wanted my money. It was a little exhilarating, really, being all firm and stingy and stuff.
Oh, and they're clever, too. The students are great conversationalists who can think on their feet. They're formulaic, but not predictable. Still, the conversations all tend to loosely move through the following stages:
1) Address Confirmation. This happens first as the initial 'occasion' for the call, and though it serves a useful purpose for alumni and association alike, is ultimately not the 'real reason' for the call. You know what's coming.
2) Caller/Callee Identification. The caller gets me to talk about what I'm doing now while finding points of connection, in an I'm-your-pal-or-if-we-lived-in-the-same-place-I-could-be fashion. It just so happened that this particular person last night had a connection to Texas A&M and had even been there recently with her family. Smooth.
3) Nostalgic Recollection. "You remember the good ol' days at the Caf' and the Yo'? How about those overseas trips, that crazy fun you had? Ahhhh...." The caller, now your best friend, tightens those concentric circles, strengthening the lulling effect, painting a broad-stroked picture with both of you standing arm-in-arm with your classmates at your favorite campus spot, preying on those powerful "those were the days" emotions as he/she moves in for the kill...
4) Heartfelt Supplication. All those fond memories rekindled, the caller pounces. They start high, and ask if you could help make possible for someone else the blessings you've enjoyed, though not in so many words. After all, our school motto was, "Freely you have received, freely give." (Not quite sure how this plays into Pepperdine graduates having the highest rate of indebtedness among all American schools with doctoral programs - which they did a few years ago, at least - but I'm sure it all works out, somehow.) They work their way down the list of commitments you could make, scripted all the way down (they must know they've got some hard cases out there), until they utter their final plea that the agencies that rank the school look at alumni giving rates to determine standings, to which, though it nearly broke my heart, I was courageous enough to not cave.
Do I sound a little cynical? I'm just tired of being played. Maybe it's because of things like the guy who acted like everyone's friend our senior year so he could get the entire senior class to give money in the senior gift. Maybe it's the fact that one of the older men I knew at the church while I was there (he also worked for the university) died earlier this year, and the first time I ever heard about it was when the Alumni Association sent out an email announcing an endowed fund in his name, painting a portrait of his life as if the only valuable thing about it was his allegiance and contribution to the university. Maybe it's that I'm still paying for a degree that has cost me way more than it's gained me. Maybe all of the above.
Ah, the joys of being an alumnus. What were they again?
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