1727. Proctor was not interested in journalism, and he did not want to go to Syracuse University, but his father had wanted to be a journalist, and had dreamed of going to the university so he force fed the experience to his son by the method of economic starvation. Proctor was not the sort of man to strike out on his own in defiance of his father, and do what he longed to do, like for example study pottery out in the mid-west, or attend photography workshops with the masters.
1728. The problem with Proctor was he had none of those desires so he did what his father commanded him to do. He went to Syracuse University, driving his father’s old hand me down Plymouth sedan, the 1954 model.
1729. The car was a distinct disadvantage because he could find no good place to park it over night and the best student parking was even further from his classes than his rented room. He put the car up for sale but because of a knocking sound he got no offers.
1730. After his third parking ticket he decided to junk the car expecting to get twenty-five dollars for it. He drove it to a scrap metal yard in the town of Chittenango and there he met one of those unusual men who spend their entire lives collecting junk and develop the most amazingly distorted personalities.