In the course of their work my brilliant children – a human rights lawyer and a freelance journalist – travel to places such as Phnom Penh and Dubai. In the course of mine Macomb, Illinois, is a more typical destination, involving five hours of flying, including a layover in Detroit and then two hours of driving through snow-covered fields barely interrupted by a couple of semi-boarded-up “towns”, including the intriguingly named Preemption (population 71).
After all this industrial-agricultural wasteland, Macomb is a veritable hive of human, cultural and commercial activity. There is a branch of the state university system, where I have been invited to speak, and until a few months ago, my hosts inform me, there were a total of two Italian restaurants in town, one famed for its Spam-and-Doritos-topped pizza. I’m staying at the Hampton Inn, a minimalist motel chain located opposite a Farm King, an agricultural supply store. I can’t help asking whether this is where the university puts up a genuine celebrity speaker, such as Bill Cosby. “Oh no,” I am told, “he flew in in his private plane and out the same night.”
Ann, a congenial administrator at Western Illinois University, fills me in on the student body. They are mostly white, first-generation college students and, while about a third of them are studying law enforcement with a view to a career in police work, this does not stop them from illegal under-age drinking or, for that matter, smoking pot. We muse on the problem of binge drinking, endemic to American campuses: why go straight from sobriety to vomiting? Haven’t they ever sampled the pleasures of tipsiness? Then Ann tells me one of the saddest things I’ve heard on the perennial subject of Young People Today: they don’t know how to be “silly”, she says, in the sense of whimsy and absurdity. They are strait-laced and even a little timid, unless, of course, they are utterly wasted.