Every now and again I lose my mind and decide to attempt to be social with the Stanford Alumni. As individuals, they may be tolerable under many circumstances, but, with the sole exception of the alumni in San Diego, they tend to come off as a group of horse's asses. The fragility of ego on display is depressing, as are the many variations of the "dance of self-importance" (as Kathyrn so memorably put it.)
In this case, in Las Vegas, a city of over a million people, which sends about six children per year to Stanford (those who have the SAT scores to qualify are few, and those who qualify rarely consider Stanford), I encountered the typical shadow response: my response to the RSVP had asked if 2.5 year old children would be welcome, I arrived to acknowledgement of the position, the hostess gamely provided crayons and a coloring book, and, when my daughter got up to investigate the dog statue on display in the next room, we were informed by the host that we could leave if we could not "control" our child. We left. Just another POG
I suppose: and there are plenty of those around (we have a Sun City and other Del Webb waiting rooms for the graveyard locally.)
I am sure that some of his grandchildren love him anyway. We just won't be in the group. Their discussion did not falter for a moment: they were brainstorming new ways to say how important they were. Sigh.