Father (only F. in the further text): Well, now, son, would you like daddy to tell you about the events in '96..and '97 even?
Son (S. from now on): Oh, daddy, do you have to?
F.: I do, son, I do... (looks at his son for a while, and then at an almost-empty bottle of bourbon, with his eyes bloodshot) It is important for you to understand some things and to grow up to be as clever as I am. You see, son, when a protest begins, first of all, you mustn't lose your head.
S.: What kind of protest?
F.: Well, a student protest. You see, I didn't give up. I started inquiring immediately: which professors would agree to secretly continue with their lectures, who would attend those lectures with me, and so on. Because, there were such students among those who studied physics. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get organized in the first nn days, and then that gang of damned, insane, fascistic greenhorns did as they pleased... Uh, those manipulated...(knocks down the bottle in anger, it falls, and, of course, breaks. His little son looks at him with fear) ... I mean, this and that, you know. Anyhow, on the nn-th day, we started the attack.
S.: (with a bit of interest) You mean "Hey, ho, let's go"?
F.: (furiously) No, dummy, it was what they exclamated! Ours was "We want lectures"! Get it into your scull!
S.: Oooh.
F.: Where was I? (frowns) Oh, yes. And then, on the nn-th day, we charge. Now, imagine this, there are almost 700 people at the Faculty of Physics, and only a handful of us. Roughly twenty. So we call for a meeting...(he notices that the son doesn't understand) A student assembly, you see. It's a...well, how should I put it, (frowns again) well, nobody actually understands what it is. It's, like, all the students gather, but nobody knows how many are supposed to be present to make decisions about something, who summons it, etc...actually, there is not a trace of it in the Law about the Uniz..un..university. (when the word 'Law' is mentioned, the little son begins to yawn. Daddy, all fired up, fortunately, fails to notice this) But, never mind that; we call for it and then...(a dramatic intermission; he tries to focus on his son) we vote for lectures. That's how cool we were. With 38 'pro' out of 70 that we managed to gather that day.
S.: Wait dad, didn't you say that there were twenty of you?
F.: Less. (grins widely) That's what I was telling you. There are always, remember, always those who vote 'pro' something. Whatever that may be. Well, anyhow...(tries to open a new bottle of burbon, and is having a hard time) So we pass the proposal. But, nothing would have happened hadn't it been for our student vice-chancellor Darko. Now, there's a man. Had someone else taken care of things, there still wouldn't have been enough of us. Even so, there were still twenty, among those seventy who were 'against'.
S.: Is that this man from the wall?
F.: Oh, yes. I hanged his picture on the wall the same year, right beside Nemanja Djordjevic. Those are, my boy, the idols of all the true, independent, honest students.
S.: (attempting to end the session) And so the protest ended.
F.: (somberly) Not quite.
S.: How is that?
F.: Well, in fact, nobody would attend classes...If a few of us gathered, they said that it wasn't enough, and that they preferred not to teach in that manner. That's life. (takes a long gulp) And we did it all for everybody's wellbeing, so we could graduate as soon as possible, and all that...
S.: So, did you graduate?
(long intermission. Another gulp.)
F.: That was it, now straight to bed.
S.: Uhf, well...
F.: Did you hear me, now disappear!
(son departs, with relief)
F.: (mumbles to himself) It's like I never taught him anything! The important thing is that I have a pager, jeep, and a mobile phone, and not whether I graduated or not...

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