Our Dumb Blog

The Neutral Zone, the bulletin board I spend a good portion of my free time on has its own subculture with its own blend of characters. Several of us go to UM and so have unusual conversations that people around us must think quite odd. We are a Motley crew that socializes despite the odds. I don’t think I would spend much time around any of them if it were not for the common bond of the BBS. For the following conversation to make sense, you must first know something of the participants. Even though we deal with each other in real life, we still address each other by our handles. I am Jonah, of course. There’s
Dick,
younger brother of the Neutral Zone sysop.
Shocka
is his friend with whom I am playing a game of e-mail chess.
Kanji
is a senior who just started up his own board, Ragamuffin BBS.
Kilroy
is in my Russian history class, is a quadriplegic, a non Christian, and an all around interesting person with whom to debate philosophy. We also play chess.

I came out of Russian history from the classroom in the library and started walking across the grass over to my car. Actually, it’s not grass it’s clover, so I bent my head down and shuffled along looking for four leaf clover. Someone called out to me. “Hey Jonah!” I looked up. Kanji, Dick, and Shocka had just pulled up in Kanji’s car. “Did you lose something?” asked Dick leaning out the front window. “Have you lost your mind?” asked Kanji. “I’m looking for four leaf clovers,” I said, abandoning my search to approach them. “Are you a dichotomist?” asked Kanji. “Clover is dicot,” I responded. “What?!” Shocka exclaimed from the back seat. He says that only 50% of what I say makes any sense. This must of been one of those times when it’s the other 50%. “There’s dicots and monocots,” I started. “Oh, a biology nerd!” cut in Dick. “The difference is in vascular bundles.” “I mean your shirt,” said Kanji, looking up from my chest. I was wearing my green shirt with all the different theologies on the front of it. “Oh,” I said realizing what I was wearing for the first time that day after putting it on, “I’m none of those. I’m what it says at the bottom, a plain simple Christian.”

I stood leaning on the car door talking to the three of them about the nonexistent Ragamuffin BBS party that had been planned while Kanji was out of town and subsequently vetoed by him since he was working the night it was scheduled. Kilroy, who was waiting in his motorized wheelchair for his grandfather to come pick him up after Russian had been let out early, was nearby. I beckoned him over and occasionally directed comments to him about the discussion going on inside the car. Kanji eventually cut the car off, ceasing Kilroy’s inhalation of exhaust fumes.

Shocka leaned forward, “We’ve been wondering something,” he enunciated each word like he always does, “Is it more polite to say, ‘May I feel your breast?’ or ‘May I feel your tit?'” I laughed, “Someone asked me once whether it was more polite to call a female a chick or a woman.” “Call ’em a babe,” Dick interjected. “So I said that it depended on who you are addressing,” I continued, “I guess it’s sort of the samething.” “What would you rather be called?” “What do you call me?” I asked. “Jonah.” “That’ll work,” I said. “I never call you by your first name,” Shocka pointed out, “All I know is thatyour middle name begins with E.” “He’s been trying to guess my middle name for the past two weeks,” I explained to the other occupants of the car, “So he’s going to start calling me ‘E’. Like in James Bond? there’s ‘Q’ and ‘M’? Well, I’m ‘E’.” “What is your middle name?” asked Kilroy. “I think I told you once,” I said, “but I can’t tell you in front of Shocka; he’s trying to guess.” “All I have to go on,” continued Shocka, “is Beethoven and ‘fur’.” “It’s a piece by Beethoven,” I explained again, “and it begins with ‘Fur’.” “Fur, fur, fur,” Dick mused. Kanji looked at me blankly. I began to whistle. “I know that!” Dick exclaimed identifying tune emanating from my lips, “Fur Elise!” I nodded. “So, Elise? That’s what it is?” Shocka wore an expression of disgust mixed with relief. “How do you spell that,” inquired Kanji. “Uh,” I had to think for a moment before telling him.

I looked up over the roof of the car to see Chris Shiver and Leo, both attendants of my last day of being a teenager party last year, standing at Chris’ truck. “Hey,” I called to them, “Vote for me. I’m running for vice president of the sophomore class!” “We’re going to be juniors next year,” Chris called back, “But, sure, I’ll vote for you for the sophomore vice president!” “Who’s running for president?” asked someone inside the car. “Cris Hyatt.” “Oh, she’ll win, she’s popular.” “We’re not running for popularity,” I insisted, “We want to change things,like getting Witness to do chapel.” Kanji nodded slightly. He’s a member of Witness, an evangelical music and drama team. “Hey, get coed dorms and I’ll votefor you,” offered Dick. He’s a freshman, so he can’t vote for me anyway.

After a while, Kilroy departed in his specially designed minivan, and the guys invited me inside the crowded car as it started raining. We sat in the middle of the library parking lot discussing body hair.

“Jonah, you always wear jeans,” commented Dick. “They’re cheap, I know, I wear them, but why don’t you ever wear a dress or something?” “Why?” I asked. “We want to see your legs,” he answered bluntly, “You need to live a little.” “I’ll wear a dress on Wednesday,” I said. “Really?” Dick perked up. “I’m a panelist for the Spring Forum,” I said, “I want to look like I know what I’m talking about.” “How long is it?” inquired Dick. “Hour, hour and a half,” I guessed. “I mean the dress,” said Dick. “Oh, it’s long.” Dick looked disappointed, “Why don’t youwear a miniskirt?” “I want to look like I know what I’m talking about,” I repeated, then offered, “I’ll come up to the computer lab with my dress on.”

Last fall Dr. Berry, my religion professor for Intro to the Old Testament called me over after class one day and handed me a sheet of paper. It began, “Theta Alpha Kappa Spring Forum Proposal: Whose Image? Christians and Government. A Panel of 2 students and 2 faculty members will discuss the Christian’s role in government. This includes such issues as Christian citizenship, civil disobedience, and church-state relations.”

“Theta Alpha Kappa, the religious honor society, is having a spring forum in March,” said Dr. Berry. “I’ve asked Dr. Mashburn and Dr. Schaefer to be on the panel. Clark Cameron is a student and has also agreed to do it. Would you be interested in being the other student on the panel?”

Dr. Mashburn is my philosophy teacher, and Dr. Schaefer is my political science instructor and personal advisor. They are two of my very favorite professors at school, and to be on the same panel with them would be a great honor. I agreed.

The weekend before the panel as I pondered what to say, I got a call from Clark Cameron, who I realized was also a member of my philosophy class. He asked me for information about the forum and what I planned to say. On the Tuesday before the forum, Clark, Dr. Mashburn, and I met and discussed what we were going to say. I said that I wanted to discuss the most recent manifestation of the church/state issue–the proposed school prayer amendment.

On Wednesday I arranged for someone else to turn in my chemistry homework since I was skipping because my psychotic professor doesn’t believe in ending class at ten till. That wouldn’t leave me enough time to get over to where the forum was taking place, so I spent that hour practicing my speech and playing the piano in one of the practice rooms in an attempt to calm my nerves.

Finally, it was time to start. I went over to the auditorium where the forum was beingheld. There were several people there already, mostly religion majors. I took a seat in the back near them. Thenwhen it was time, Dr. Berry directed us to the front. Dr. Mashburn, Dr. Schaefer, Clark Cameron, and I took our seats at a table up on stage along with Dr. Berry and the student president of Theta Alpha Kappa, who introduced us. As he was, Mom walked in and took a seat.
I went first. I had worked out what I wanted to say on the computer and then transfered it to note cards like I learned to do in speech class. I probably should have just read what I’d written. I was really nervous. My face was hot, and my hands shook. But I managed to get through without sounding too stupid. I lost track of what I was saying a couple of times. Here’s what I prepared and roughly what I said:

A federal court recently ruled that a picture of Jesus cannot hang in the hallway of a Michigan high school. Just last week the Mobile Press Register reported that prayer still cannot be allowed in public schools. Even student initiated prayers are, as one attorney put it, illegal. All across the nation religion is being censored by the government. What happened to the country which at its birth acknowledged a creator who endowed men with certain unalienable rights? Our motto is “In God We Trust.” The United States was founded by men who knew the importance of religion in government. Benjamin Franklin said, “The longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth–that God governs in the affairs of men.”

In the three decades since the Supreme Court ruled that prayer in schools was unconstitutional,the rates of crime, illegitimate births, reported cases of child abuse, and suicide have skyrocketed. It seems that morality has been suppressed along with religion.

The Supreme Court has ruled that prayer, the Ten Commandments, and even God are unconstitutional. Why? Because of the First Amendment’s stipulation that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.” This supposedly erected a wall of separation between church and state. The founders intendedthat the first amendment protect religion from the government by prohibiting it from establishing a state church. Yet the court turned it around and instead attempted to use it to protect government from religion. The Court used the first amendment as an excuse to remove religion fromthe government.

Now that Republicans control Congress, many people feel that Americans want to return to traditional values to replace the values our culture seems to have forgotten. A great step in this direction would be a Constitutional amendment to once again allow prayer in schools.
There is no good reason why prayer shouldn’t be allowed in schools other than the court fearing religion’s influence on students. And who knows? Prayer in schools might even bring about a reversal downwardtrend of morality in this country.

Yet I don’t think a prayer in schools amendment is a good idea. I don’ think it goes far enough. It doesn’t address the problem of our courts
view on religion in government. Instead, I suggest an amendment that would clarify the issue of religion and the state, returning the Court
s idea to that which the founding fathers held. It should be government’s job to protect the free practice of religion, not to protect itself from religion. The stateshould allow religion to exist, not stifle it.

George Washington said, “It is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits and humbly to implore His protection and favor.”

After my little shpeel, Clark spoke, then Dr. Mashburn, and finally Dr. Schaefer, who advocated requiring students to take four philosophy classes while in college. It was then opened up for questions. My mom asked one of the first ones. Most of the people who spoke up were professors. It was great to argue with them from up high on the stage while they were down below. Our roles had been reversed. We also discussed things amongst ourselves. During a little spat about authority, Clark unwisely asked, “Would you support your pastor if you disagreed with him?” It’s funny because our church doesn’t even have a pastor. Clark didn’t know that I’m not a Baptist. I didn’t want to get into that since it was off the subject, so I just replied that it would depend.

We laughed about it later when I revealed the truth about my denominational preference in philosophy class one day. Dr. Mashburn was talking about people who prefer to be called simply “Christian,” and I said, “That’s me. I’m not a Baptist.” The room got very quiet. Then from across the room, one of the guys said, “Burn her!” Everyone laughed. I guess I’m the only person in there who’s not a member of the Southern Baptist Convention.

4-6-95
Cris Hyatt (my running mate) and I were walking from the quad to the day care center for her to get some paper for a bulletin board. As we approached the cross walk, one of the admission counselors and a perspective student and her family were approaching us.

“You know what I like to do whenever I pass an admission counselor?” she said and then told me. “You want to do it?” I agreed.
We met the group on the crosswalk. Cris started speaking loudly and mechanically, “Joanna, have I ever told you how much I love this school?”

“Why, no, Cris,” I answered. “Tell me.”

“I just love the University of Mobile,” she continued, enunciating each syllable. “The professors are wonderful, and the classes are so much fun.”

“But Cris,” I said with mock emotion, “You can’t possibly love this school as much as I do.”

By this time we had passed the other people, who were all cracking up laughing.

After getting her paper (which turned out to be a foot too short), I left Cris and made my way over to the library where I had an appointment with the science tutor. Chemistry is a challenge. I got a C on my last formal lab report accompanied by a note reading “Learning Center.”

The learning center is located in the library, houses several computers, and is manned by work study students who specialize in areas ranging from English and math to science. I forgot that my appointment was at 3:30 instead of 3:00, so at the invitation of one of the tutors, I started messing around on the computers. No games are allowed, so after quizzing myself on sentences with improper grammar, I went into control panels and began altering the wallpaper and screen saver. 3:30 rolled around, and Kim, the girl who was supposed to be tutoring, had
not showed up. I talked to Shocka, one of the guys on the computer bulletin boards around here, for an hour and a half waiting. Finally, I changed the marquis on one of the computers to read, “Joanna waited patiently for an hour and a half for Kim to come in and tutor her in chemistry, but she never showed up…” and left.

Elizabeth, my friend who also works in the learning center as an English tutor, told me later that they thought my little message was very humorous. I went back the next day, and sure enough, Kim appeared as well. Maybe I’ll get an A on this next lab report. Our chemistry professor posted out grades. I have a 90.08 average. Just barely an A! There is only one other A, however, out of a class of thirty of so.

My Russian history teacher teaches from a point of view based in propaganda. That makes her lectures fairly interesting. I mean, after all, Stalin invaded Poland only to create a buffer between Russia and Germany, right? And Stalin was the only one who saw what a terrible guy Hitler was. It’s kind of funny. But then, so are some of the anecdotes she tells…

The daughter of an old Decembrist asked her maid why the Bolsheviks were marching outside. “To stop people from being rich.”

“That’s odd,” the daughter mused, “My father demonstrated to try to stop people from being poor.”

Q: Why is there only one party in the Soviet Union?
A: With all the shortages, who can afford two?

Brezhnev, touring a factory one day, came across an industrious worker at his post. “Could you work as quickly if you had had a glass of vodka this morning?” Brezhnev asked.

“Of course,” replied the worker.

“What about if you had two glasses?”

“Yes, fine.”

“But what if you had three glasses of vodka this morning?” Brezhnev inquired.

Replied the worker, “m working now, aren’t I?”

There were two types of people in the Soviet Union: Blacks and Reds. The Blacks rode in black limousines, snacked on black caviar, and vacationed at the Black Sea. The rest of Russians were Red. They had red noses and went to Red Square with red banners.

Brezhnev’s mother stepped out of the limousine that had brought her to her son’s dacha and looked in wonder at the gardens and room before she started crying. “But what are we going to do,” she sobbed, “when the Bolsheviks come to take it away?”

I’m sick. Sick, sick, sick. I’ve got a cold. Ugh.

Nathan, Stephanie, and I went to see a play on Sunday. It was put on by a Medieval society at the University of So:uth Alabama, the local state school. They did Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, which I love. Their performance of it wasn’t very good, however. The two main characters, who are supposed to be male, were played by females. The First Player was played by this old guy who read his script instead of memorizing his lines. Hamlet was the best actor. He was a black guy with an earring in his right ear. They cut out a bunch of it and even one of the characters, Polonius. The king and queen mentioned that he was dead in the first scene, but then the other characters talked as if he were alive (like he should have been at that point) later on. The script was very different from the movie, so that kept it interesting, along with all the gaffs. The play was free, and it’s a good thing too.

I feel like ick.

Things here are wet. After threatening to storm for a couple of days, the heavens finally rent and emptied themselves on our backyard. Before that happened, however, Nathan shot two snakes swimming in our lake with the .22 rifle we bought from him at Christmas. He shot another one a couple of days ago. We decided that they were all harmless water snakes. But when they’re swimming, it’s hard to tell the difference between them and water moccasins. I haven’t seen heard anything about the beavers recently. They may have moved on. Stephanie and Nathan found a live trap a few weeks ago out in a field. It’s big enough to hold a beaver should the beast wander into it and trip the plate so that the doors on either end snap shut. They set it up on a beaten path leading up from the lake and put sticks around it so that the only way to the other side was through the trap. A couple of days later, Stephanie went out in the morning to check the trap. As she approached, she noticed that something was inside! It caught something! Getting nearer, she saw that whatever it was had white on it. Puzzled, she hurried forward to find our cat meowing inside. The poor thing had left the barn to hunt but had her adventure cut short on the way to get a drink. After a week or so and no results, other than the trapped cat, Nathan and Stephanie got a tip from a former forester in our church about how to catch a beaver. They soaked bark stripped from the trees the beavers especially seem to like in sugar water overnight and placed the bait in the trap. The trapped has stayed there, however, and caught nothing. Not even the cat.

My grandmother came home today. She requires almost constant care if she’s not asleep. Mom spent the whole day fetching prescriptions, helping her practice speaking, etc… When Mom was gone, Stephanie and I took turns keeping an eye on my grandmother. It’s going to be different. But at least now we have a reason for telling Benjamin to shut up.

The name I made up for my Russian history test was Mecheck or something. I think I was trying to say Malevich, so I’m afraid spelling isn’t going to help me on this one. It should elsewhere, though. I misspelled Trotsky’s name two different ways.

We seem to cover everything so quickly in class. Our professor lectures for an hour and a half or so on Tuesday and then we have “discussion” on Thursday. That’s when she asks people to talk about what she taught Tuesday and then cuts them off and adds whatever else she wants to say.
That can be good if you can’t answer her questions. Sometimes we watch documentaries. It’s neat to see on t.v. what we’ve been reading about and listening to.

The NEP was interesting. It reminds me of Stolypin’s policy. Whenever they enacted some capitalistic emergency type programs and started making economic and agricultural progress, they’d cut it short to make way for something “better”. The most interesting thing I’ve learned is that
farmland has almost always been collective, first in the peasant communes and then in Stalin’s state farms.

I listened to The Last Tsar, a biography of Nicholas II on tape. It was very interesting. A lot of it was taken from his diary. Right now I’m reading Children of the Arbat. It begins during the first five year plan under Stalin. It’s amazing that everyone loved him so much and thought that communism was good when all around people were being arrested, tortured, killed, starved, or just having an all around bad time of it. I just started it and have to have it finished by the end of spring break. Ack.

I don’t think I’ll be skipping any school. For one thing, I wouldn’t want to. For another, I don’t want to pay the price. It’s much easier if I just stay in school. I don’t have any plans for the summer yet. Dad was talking to me about it the other day. He said something to the effect that I probably wasn’t going to have that many free summers anymore, so I might want to take advantage of this one. Mom won’t be able to come out for CBA’s convention in Denver like she did last year because she has to take care of my grandmother. Nathan and Stephanie are planning to come out for at least camp. Nathan’s family might even come to Colorado for a vacation. Staying out for most of the summer sounds appealing to me. If I’m guaranteed a camping trip, I’ll come.

I like to tear off the cards they have on flyers posted to the bulletin boards in the hallways at school and send them off to wherever they came from to get mail. I got one from the University of Miami in Ohio (don’t ask, I haven’t figured it out myself) from the political science department. I especially looked over the part about tuition being wavered and stipends being paid. That would be really cool, to be able to study somewhere for free and let the school take care of living expenses. Be a professional student. I like that idea.

March, 1995

While reading a book recently, I discovered that there are two kinds of people. (Actually, there are numerous ways you can divide the world’s inhabitants into halves. The idea of this particular book was that by dividing everyone up into one of two camps on several questions, you could derive a fairly accurate personality type picture for an individual in question.) Anyway, there are two types of people: those who like closure and those who prefer to keep their options open. For example, some people feel uncomfortable having any decisions left unmade. Others feel unduly confined if they have to makedecisions right away and usually don’t make any until the last possible moment.

For a long time I’ve wondered why people make up their minds before they have all the facts or when I know that they are aware that circumstances are likely to change. I much prefer leaving things unsettled and unsolved till the deadline for deciding has come. That way I won
t have to change my mind. Yet now I understand that others can feel very uncomfortable unless they’ve already made a decision or constructed plans far in advance of the fact.

Anyhow, here’s a recent record of my activities.

For Christmas, my parents gave me a leather jacket, which has measurably increased my self worth, and a trip to Colorado Springs. I left and got there Christmas night, smuggling along an arsenal of fireworks in my luggage and on my person. Being out there was great, even if the weather was being uncooperatively beautiful. I get enough of that here. I wanted snow. In the meantime, I had a great time being with the Bremers, going country dancing (I got tagged and branded on my way in the bar since I was a couple months shy of twenty-one), trail riding (relaxing, since Max was riding good ol’ Studdly after freaky Flashdance proved himself too difficult to catch; that would have made the ride exciting but not relaxing), movies at the dollar theater (complete with Chinese fire drills on the way home), and get togethers with friends from the old Wings Like Eaglesdays (the first time there have been that many of us from that first year’s camp together in five years). Finally it snowed, and I got to go skiing (first time in aboutfour years). It was a blast. Max went back to the Air Force Academy quite unwillingly after his winter vacation, but Michele and I tried to make it a bit more bearable by enrolling him in the Pie of the Night Club and sneaking a different variety of pie into his dorm every evening.

While I was having a great time being out there and learning how to make a raincoat, Mom called one night and said that my grandmothe
r (her mother Dottie Staples) had a stroke while sitting at our kitchen table. We were planning on the rest of my family minus Dad picking me up in Atlanta on my return trip and then continuing on up to Highlands, NC to spend some winter time at my grandfather
s house in the mountains. Since that was now unfeasible, I stayed out at the Bremers for a longer period of time than originally intended. It turned out that my grandfather was able to pickme up later in Atlanta and drive down to Mobile. By then my grandmother had been moved out of intensive care, beyond a normal room, and was then staying at a long term hospital were she could undergo therapy. When I first visited her, the only forms of communication she possessed weresignaling yes, by extending two fingers on her left hand (her right side was totally paralyzed), and no, by making a fist. In the weeks that have followed, she’s been able to feed herself, move around in a wheelchair, learn to walk again for limited distances, and finally talk. Mom was spending almost all day at the hospital everyday before my grandmother was discharged on Tuesday. Now she’s in Benjamin’s old room (Ben’s been removed to the living room). She still has trouble getting the words that she wants out, she uses the wheelchair almost all the time except walking into the bathroom with a cane. It’s different having her here. I can’t decide whether it was more hectic when Mom was gone all the time or now that she’s home all day. If Mom leaves, Stephanie or I have to be here to watch my grandmother and helpher go to the bathroom and stuff, although she is making progress in doing things like that forherself. We’ll see.

On top of making meals, carting Ben to swim team and drum lessons, and visiting my grandmother at the hospital, I’ve been taking 19 hours this semester. Classes have been going pretty good. Well, actually more than good. It’s great. I love all the courses I’m taking this semester. At least, I did before the reality check midterms hit me with. Here’s sort of a brief description of my classes.

Introduction to Sociology. My sociology professor is a commie lib., but that’s just because he’s just a really compassionate guy (plus the fact that he’s resentful that he doesn’t get paid more than he does). I’ve been reluctant to get in any arguments with him because he seem so unsure of himself, but we have had a couple of good discussions. I’ve decided that I’m a functionalist capitalist, so if you want to label me anytime in the near future, you’ll know what terms to use.

Chemistry 101. On our first test in Chemistry, I got the third highest grade in a class of about forty, and I got a B. Chemistry has been a doozy, even though I got 98 on my midterm (only because it was out of a possible 111 points). I’ve been listening to The Origin of Species (abridged) by Charles Darwin and A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking and some other essays by him on tape. It’s great because, while I was finding the result of a positron emission in Chemistry, I was learning what a positron IS from Hawking. Chemistry lab is pretty fun (although I’m breaking a cardinal rule by wearing contact lenses). We’ve done all sorts of chemical reactions with a penny, found the chemical composition of unknownsolutions by performing tests on them, and put together models of molecules. It’s cool. What chemistry lab should be, except, alas, with no explosions. Unfortunately, my lab partner and I were unaware that our first lab report was to be turned in, and the professor lost our second lab report. We have to do BOTH make up labs which stinks, even though it is kind of fun playing with chemicals.

Studies in the Mission and Message of Jesus. Religion is okay. We’re going through the synoptic gospels. It’s as if the class is just a big Bible study. As academic as my professor was last semester, this one is exceedingly conservative, a real fundamentalist. I like it. The other day he made the statement that angels have emotions. I asked him after class what scripture he could use to back that claim up. The next class period, he had a list of references for me.

English 202. English, as ever, is cool, even though Nathan, the guy we brought to Colorado last summer, isn’t in there like he has been for the last three semesters. We did some William Faulkner, Billy Budd by Herman Melville, and The Death of Ivan Ilyich. I just finished reading The Metamorphosis by Frank Kafka. It’s about a guy who wakes up one morning to find he has become a big, brown beetle. Dr. Allums is trying to persuade me to become an English major. Actually, double major. I told him, yeah right.

Philosophy, Theology, and Literature. Philosophy is fun. It’s a discussion class, so that usually makes it interesting. We studied the Orestia and Who Needs God? by Harold Kushner (he wrote When Bad Things Happen to Good People). We were going to read a book called Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism, but the administration made Dr. Mashburn pull it in the middle of the semester. He also removed Beloved from our required reading list. He says that he doesn’t agree with a lot of the stuff in these books and doesn’t expect us to either but that they contain some issues that must be addressed. Now I guess we’ll have to do it on our own.

History and Politics of Modern Russia. This class is great. Right now we’re at studying Stalin. One day I stayed after and another student and I talked with the instructor (a 44 year old woman from Russia) for over an hour and a half! It was great. She expressed the difficulty it is for her to adjust to a new way of thinking after years of believing that socialism was the best way. It’s fascinating to gain her perspective and understand why people accepted communism for so long. We only have midterm exam, our final, and class participation to determine the grade, so I was a bit nervous during my midterm test. But once I picked up my pencil and started writing an essay on the October revolution and the civil war following it, the story flowed on for almost three pages of notebook paper. Hopefully, she’ll like what I wrote for the essay and all the questions. I didn’t have a clue for the bonus (three contributors to the Silver Age), so I just made up some names. She said spelling didn’t count, so maybe I came close.

I just got my midterm grades in the mail. All A’s! That was quite a relief after what I’ve been through in Chemistry.

People keep asking me, “Political science? What are you going to do with a political science major? Become a politician?”

And I say, “I hope not.”

Yet now it looks as if my hopes are about to be dashed. I’m running for vice president of the Junior Class. It’s the sophomore class right now, but the election is for next semester. Cris Hyatt, the first person I met on campus, was vice president this year and became really frustrated with it. I encouraged her to run for president, but she didn’t want to. It took up too much time, and she seemed to be the only interested in talkin
~g about the business at hand at student government meetings. I am just about the only person who shows up for sophomore class meetings (including class officers), and that’s only if I find out about them. During the last one, I suggested that we have class meetings on days that we don
t have chapel (and therefore almost everyone is free) at 11:00. Cris talked to a guy about it who accosted me in the library the next day and tried to talk me into running for office. I told him that I was reluctant to since I lived so far away off campus. He said the Student Government Association needed commuters on it and I would be great at it. Like the crow who was flattered by the fox into singing and thereby letting the piece of cheese in her mouth drop to the forest floor, I squawked. I met Cris a while later and asked her about running. A girl named Robyn was sitting next to her. Cris said that Robyn could run with us.

“No way,” said Robin. “You’ll just make me do all the hard work like phone people.”

“Hey,” I said looking at Cris, “That’s not a bad idea.”

So Cris is running for president, I’m running for vice president, and Robyn for secretary/treasurer (we’re not really sure why there
s a position called treasurer; there isn’t any money involved). So far we’re running unopposed. That seems to be typical. Sometimes they even have to appoint officers. I still don’t even really know who the officers are. But now I’m running, and I won’t have many free Tuesday nights next year. Hopefully. I keep telling myself that it looks good on a resume.