I went to Princeton. There: my résumé. Usually I slip it in more casually. I wait for an opening, a cue, a question. I rarely wait very long, though. As every Ivy League graduate discovers, the greatest benefit of that education is social, not intellectual. I went to Princeton. That statement opens a lot of doors. But should it?
The first time I asked myself that question was in the fall of 1980, a month or so after arriving on a campus that struck me as a version of heaven on earth. The buildings cast elaborate, Gothic shadows that I had...
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