Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

Seeing as how we did spend the time on the back story, you really should hear it. Because
it's pretty good. Andrew's father, Hank, my college roommate and financial advisor, ran
an incredibly successful hedge fund. Andrew's mother, Ellen, therefore, was not just a stunningly
beautiful widow—she looks like Naomi Judd—but also fabulously wealthy. Now for
the delicious spin. I was more than just a family friend. I had my eye on the Widow Barr, and
seeing to it that young Andrew would agree to attend Bob Jones would be a feather in my
cap.
Andrew's part was equally delicious. Eager to please his mother, he had happily
agreed to visit what he thought was just a typical, fun-in-the-sun Christian school. Our plan,
as you can clearly see, was brilliant. Neither of us would have to know anything about either
Christianity or Bob Jones University. We had thought of everything.
And, yes, I considered the possibility that I would be recognized. A disguise? Nah. I'd
just cut my hair extra short. Yeah, that would do it.
"Hi, Mr. Franken! Big fan!" "Good to see you, Mr. Franken!" "Loved you on SNL!"
These were the security guards at La Guardia. Nothing to worry about. We were still in New
York. Didn't mean the haircut wasn't working.
We arrived in Greenville. The Hertz rent-a-car gal, also a big fan. That's good, I explained
to Andrew. It's good to have a fan base. But this Hertz woman, she wasn't a nutcase
evangelical. She watched secular TV Don't worry.
So we got there around 11 A.M. Drove through the gates. Didn't set off the Jew alarm.
We're in.
Took a look around. Not an unattractive campus. Buildings, grass—nice day. But the
place was eerily devoid of human activity. We'd soon learn that everyone was at chapel, this
being a weekday. Out of the car and into the Administration Building. At the desk, an extremely
friendly, well-scrubbed, wide-eyed young man greeted us and sent us along into the
admissions office, where we were met by an extremely friendly, well-scrubbed, wide-eyed
female staffer. Like every woman at BJU, she wore a skirt that covered not just her upper
thigh, but her lower thigh, and her knee, and her calf, and her either well-turned or not wellturned
ankle. No real way of knowing. But she was really nice and showed us the official
admissions video, which featured two miniature pirates who introduced themselves as "your
guardians." At BJU, they told us, you're never alone. Remember I said "constant monitoring"
would be a theme? The creepy mini-pirates weren't kidding.