Ben Oostdam's


page 44
July/Dec., 1962

But let's veer away for a minute to my new life-style: I had rented a small converted chickencoop in La Jolla. I studied a lot, but also went to several parties and got fixed up with a series of girlfriends:

Lorre Z.

a roommate of Joan

the artist-friend of Ted Foster

Cathy Clark

a close friend
of my friend Don

who escaped to Cambridge

also - unpictured -the lively ex of Walther Munk; the visiting niece of my landlady; a fellow diner in the Bavarian restaurant with a well-filled sweater, and a professed witch named Eve with two cute children. That averages out to one a month, probably a poor record for California in the 1960's. There must have been a few Tijuana trips, too, judging from jeep records, but few if any dives. So back to academics:
I overstudied for my qualifying, writing hundreds of 3 x 5's and then extracting and summarizing them to the very last minute. The setting of the exam was fiendish: Inman was in the chair and asked numerous questions, continuously shaking his head disapprovingly right or wrong. Goldberg sat doing something else and took note of Inman's reactions only. McGowan protested my terminology, and Shepard engaged me in an argument about the windward side of reefs: I said they were very productive, he said they were the site of heavy erosion and he wanted me to pick a side, disallowing my solution that both statements were correct in terms of the equation of continuity. Anyhow, I blew it and stammered more than I should have, so I was more or less flunked but given the opportunity to work on my thesis proposal anyhow.

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