Always Trendy, Sloban Mitnik Chooses His Ph. D Subject

The List Is a Long One; Making a Choice Is not Easy

My neighbor Sloban invited my wife and me to a Memorial Day weekend party to celebrate him completing his Ph.D. This surprised me, since I had never once heard him talk about working on a doctorate. In fact, some years ago he told me that he flunked out of junior college in the first semester.

"Congratulations, Doctor Mitnik," I said, as I took a seat in Sloban's backyard cabana.

"Oh, I'm not a doctor yet, but I will be in a few days," he said.

Kate had headed for the kitchen to help with the cooking and get into the endless game of gin rummy with the other neighborhood wives. Kids were splashing in the pool. Lounging around the cabana were the guys from the Wednesday night poker game and a half dozen others.

"It's all set," Sloban said. "I just have to pick a subject. I'm hoping you guys can help me."

"What does the university think you should be?" I asked. "What did you study?"

"They don't really care," Sloban said, opening a folder in his lap and holding up a sheet of paper. "Here's a list of all the subjects."

The list got passed around. It was a long one - everything from accounting to xenophobia.

"I've never heard you mention you were working on a doctorate," I said. Honest, I wasn't trying to needle him.

"This came up sudden like," Sloban said. "At work, there's a new program. Our division will win a prize if it can raise the educational level of everybody. And with a doctor's degree, I'll get a raise. Five hundred dollars a month."

That brought a murmur of surprise and a couple of low whistles.

"I chose the university's deluxe doctorate package," Sloban said. "For $250 I get the doctor's degree and for another $150 I get a full dissertation with deluxe citations."

"Well, what do you think you ought to be?" someone asked.

"A guy at work said you should make it something you can consult about on the side," Sloban said. "Generate some extra income."

"Don't you have to know something about the subject to be a consultant?" someone asked. I was about to ask the same thing.

"Everybody says it's not necessary," Sloban said. "Few consultants know anything about the subject they consult on."

We fell silent, each working on his beer and pondering the problem.

"How about geography?" The speaker was scanning the list.

"What's that involve?" Sloban asked.

"Knowing where countries are located."

He made a face. "Nah..."

The subject list moved around the group again.

"How about nuclear engineering?" someone suggested. "Isn't Homer Simpson a nuclear engineer?"

Sloban pursed his lips and frowned. "Homer doesn't like his job very much. And I wouldn't want to be married to someone like Marge."

Everybody took a sip of his beer.

"You know," Sloban finally said, "what I think I would like is to be a doctor of art history."

That brought a respectful silence. I worked real hard not to laugh out loud. The only piece of art in Sloban's house is a large painting he bought when the volunteer firemen held an art auction as a fundraiser. The painting, which shows a goldfish in a fish bowl, hangs in the living room over the couch.

"Why art history?" I asked.

"There's something about art that just... I don't know... it speaks to me."

As we walked home afterwards, I told Kate that Sloban was thinking of art history for his doctorate.

"Art historians are a dime a dozen," she said, shaking her head. "To be an art historian, he would at least have to set foot in an art museum."

"He's thought of that," I said. "He thinks he could position himself as a consultant to art museums whose specialty is that he's never been in an art museum."

"He sounds like a natural for a Ph.D.," she said.

Copyright 2003-2004 William Stockton & Smithtown Creek Productions
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