As a chemistry major he’d just pulled a D in organic chemistry and been subjected to a bruising lecture from his new advisor, who ripped into him with sarcasm and some poor advice. “Jensen, you ought to drop out before you’re dropped. Making anything below a B in chemistry is totally unacceptable for anyone planning a science career. You’re headed for Dr. Hunter’s physical chemistry class, according to this plan you set up at the beginning of the year, but there’s no way you’re capable of passing his class.” Those words rang in his ears. He wasn’t about to drop out now, going into the spring semester of his junior year. “Professor Baker, do you have the power to force me to drop out of chemistry into a simpler curriculum?” The answer he received shocked him. Or rather, it wasn’t so much the “No” answer as it was the string of profanity the professor used to emphasize the “No.” As Roy ventured into the brightly lit Union Building, he heard the theme song “Cheyenne, Cheyenne…”
