How to Not Succeed in College Without Really Trying

by Lloyd B. Abrams

I would think that by the time most old farts retire, they would’ve gotten rid of their public school report cards, college transcripts and fading copies of their professional licenses.

Well, not me. I’ve saved everything.

So before I began writing this, I decided to reference my dog-eared repository of irreplaceable vital documents.

I thought I’d gotten only one A in four years at Stony Brook University, from which I graduated in 1967 (in only four years!), but with a pitiful 2.28 out of 4.0 cumulative GPA. As a result, I wasn’t being heavily recruited – nor recruited at all – by any graduate psychology program in the universe.

And I was wrong about getting that one A because I’d actually gotten three A’s: one in Principles and Problems in Economics, another in Child Literature, and the third in Modern Theater, of which I was most proud, because I had cut the Friday afternoon Theater classes for eight weeks in a row.

But my term paper, a review of a show in Manhattan that we were required to attend, earned an A+, and I was later told that it was read aloud by our professor in class. Alas, I wasn’t even present to hear his glowing commentary and to even get to kvell … all because I’d cut that class, too.

So why was it such a stand out? Maybe because I’d stayed up all night typing it and it got steadily more negative and spiteful the more sleep-deprived I got.

And judging from the several classes I did happen to attend, I assumed he appreciated the review’s steady – although unintentional – theatrical buildup of irritation and despair.

So, boys and girls, and lackadaisical children of all ages, our object lesson for today is: If I can make it somewhere, then you can make it anywhere.

For me, all it took was a thesaurus, an amphetamine or two, a supply of Wite-Out, and a healthy dose of “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

Rev 12 / April 23, 2026

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April 23, 2026 … Copyright © 2026, Lloyd B. Abrams