Every few months I receive the Johns Hopkins Magazine in the mail. I pore over each issue with a cup of joe, reading it cover to cover to keep afloat on the latest from my alma mater. Who am I kidding? It usually ends up in the recycling bin, untouched. And, like indigestion is sure to follow a night of over-indulgence at White Castle (aka the crack of fast food), a "special" letter from the JHU President trails the magazine within a few days. A "special" letter asking for donations, that is. I've always discarded these letters without much of a second glance — because let's face it, I didn't particularly like my experience at Hopkins, and my entire professional career has had nothing...