Movin' on up - and out of Penn

Much ado has been made recently about my decision to "temporarily" leave the University in favor of a new post as head of the White House Office on Faith-Based and Community Initiatives. Some at Penn say that the position represents a tremendous opportunity -- an opportunity for me to help push the definitions of "church" and "state" and explore whether our religious institutions can truly work together for our community's benefit. Others say that my departure is inherently problematic, for it shortchanges the University of my valued services. Both arguments have their merits. And it is for precisely that reason that I have chosen to set the record straight. You see, I couldn't care less about "faith-based initiatives." I don't know if there's a God. I don't care if there's a God. And quite frankly, the only people I've ever seen with direct personal evidence of some divine power also tend to live in trailer parks and spot Elvis at gas stations on a not-too-infrequent basis. Would you trust these people alone with your life and livelihood? Would you want your health benefits leveraged solely on the word of someone who looks at certain farm animals a little more intimately than your average rancher? Neither would I. No, I didn't jump ship simply because I wanted a new gig, or even because I've been forced to work in a glorified community college political science department. Instead, I hopped down to Washington on that proverbial "Metroliner to Fame" simply because I wanted a new boss. Just think about it. Here at the good ol' U of P, my boss is this chick named Judith Rodin. Judy's kind of a tough broad, you see. She takes her greatest pleasure in attending groundbreakings, cozying up to trustees and making life a living hell for staff members, Health System execs and virtually every female member of the faculty. Sure, she may know a thing or two about psychology, but what difference does that make? Besides, she was a Gore supporter. That means she'll be spending another four years living the "high" life in this stuffy old University, dealing with the same whining students and holier-than-thou professors she's been managing since that redneck from Arkansas was president. Now, compare Miss Judy with my new boss. His name is George W. Bush. George isn't the smartest man in the world. I've seen him in action, and while it was pretty funny when he farted into the Kremlin hotline and when he put the "People's Elbow" on Jiang Zemin, he's a few members short of a congregation, you know? But the fact of the matter is that our new president can still offer me a whole lot more than Judy and her precious University ever did. For starters, there's the office space. Judy offered me cubbyholes in Stiteler Hall and the Fels Center (which, incidentally, nobody on campus can ever find). Big George told me to have a seat at one of those big, cushy White House desks. Advantage: Bush. Then there's the level of responsibility. Judy said, "Come, John! Resurrect an embattled department all by yourself. Spend hours tutoring ingrate sorority girls from Long Island who can't even choose between a celery stick and an apple juice for lunch, and pass your spare time spitting out those fun papers and studies!" George said, "Here's the desk, big guy. News conference from 8:00-8:15. Breakfast at 8:30. And then we'll play horseshoes with Daddy in the Rose Garden for the rest of the day." Again, advantage: Bush. Finally, there's the one intangible benefit -- knowing that you can wipe the floor with your boss in a game of Jeopardy!, hangman or even tic-tac-toe. Judy may be a bitch sometimes, but she's one sharp bitch. She and her crew may not have any idea how to build a grocery store or run a diner, but she does know a little more about science than your standard aging baby-boomer. George, on the other hand? The scuttlebutt around the White House is that all his shoes are velcro. But, he's the kind of guy who you can throw a ball at his head, catch it when it bounces off, and he'll laugh right along with you. Yet again, advantage: Bush. So now let's review. Judy wants me to put in 80-hour weeks at this second-rate University (Just admit it already. I've been to Harvard. I've been to Princeton. I know the damned difference.). George, on the other hand, says I can be a national celebrity just by mentioning "God" once in a while. So now I'm off, hopefully not to return for a long, long time. I don't care what you think. I don't care if you mistake me for Seinfeld's Newman, Billy Madison's Principal Anderson or even "The Family Guy." Just understand my decision to leave. And praise be He.

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