TUTV Cribs: Prez. Bacow
April 1, 2008
We here at the Observer teamed up with TUTV to get a never-before-seen look at the house that President Lawrence Bacow calls home. You may see him in the Daily or pass his crib on the way to class, but we promise you’ve never seen anything like this.
Our crew was greeted at the big door in Gifford by a door-lady who kindly took our coats and gave us complimentary breath mints. When asked “why breath mints,” she responded saying that “Adele loves a kindly smelling home.” She also pointed out that the mint flavor matched Glade plugins that were in every outlet. This was no stinky freshmen dorm.
Bacow called to us from the top of the stairs and introduced himself as he slowly descended the grand stairway in his robe. “It’s made from real elephant hide, so you know it’s good,” he said of his blue and brown garment. He said he had the biology department genetically engineer panthers into the school colors.
Our crew was then ushered into the kitchen where house elves greeted us in song: “Tufts is a magical place.” He then ushered us into his office, the very heart of the Tufts administration. “The administration must run smoothly and efficiently without dissent,” he said. One of the TUTV crew asked, “Aren’t different ideas crucial to the treatment of complex issues?” Bacow pushed a button below his desk and the unfortunate inquirer fell through the trapdoor he was previously standing on. We were assured that the Tufts Thought Police, a branch of Bacow’s office, would cure the man’s affliction.
“Do you like cars?” Bacow asked as we continued the tour and descended into what he affectionately called the Bac Cave, deep below the campus above us. It opened up to a cavernous room containing several foreign cars, including a Russian Yugo, a German Issetta, and a three-wheeled open air Thai buggy. They looked dangerous and none of them had iPod jacks. Looking optimistic, Bacow added that they were the perks of being the president of a school with an international focus and that none of them ran. Before leaving, Bacow belted out a full phrase of opera that echoed in the cavern. Surprised, we looked back at the robed man and were soon put at ease. “Adele says I can’t sing in the house.”
Our jackets were returned at the door and we were sent off. We asked him why we needed to go so soon and he replied, “I always finish early — as an undergraduate, a graduate, and as this tour guide. Good day.”